


The Collision of the Moons

by AlluraNice



Series: The Collision of the Moons- a kylo/reader series [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Action & Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Forced Marriage, Hate-into-Love, Kylo is Morally Ambiguous, Mutual Pining, Reader Development, Reader-Interactive, Romantic Tension, Slow Burn, betrothal, long chapters, reader is the Princess of Lunzar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 04:46:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 49,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13403763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlluraNice/pseuds/AlluraNice
Summary: Kylo is ordered into taking the hand of a princess of the planet Lunzar, a strange globe with many moons and a profitable gemstone. And while Snoke's motives are vague, one thing is clear: their marriage is a joke. She's pampered and childishly naive, and he's too smart to take her seriously. Still, while he resists her casual beauty, and she brushes off his callous demeanor, there are moments that seem too peaceful to accept. A woman attached to nothing, and a man obsessed with his destiny, will they find balance together?





	1. The Meeting

“While we have weakened the rebel forces to an almost non-existent point, the last of the jedi remain.” Supreme Leader Snoke, in his grand intimidation, sat in his massive chair, chin resting on his knuckles pensively. His heavy gaze fell upon Kylo Ren, kneeling at the foot of the dias, his head bent over and his shoulders trembling. “And with it-” Snoke seethed, standing slowly and folding his hands behind his back. “-so do my doubts about where your loyalties lie.” 

 

   Kylo Ren raised his head, eyes frustrated and desperate for the approval of his master. “Supreme Leader, it was not my fault the girl escaped. She-  _ Rey-  _ she was rescued by-” The force grew heavy upon his chest, expelling the air from his lungs and he gaped at the loss of breath.

 

“I fully understand the circumstances under which this girl was able to abscond, but it seems so impractical that these circumstances could arise, that I question whether she has brought you closer to the light.” Snoke articulates. His voice drops lower. “How can it be that after such a short time, she has taken so much of your progress? Was I wrong about your potential, Commander?”

 

   The weight lifted from Kylo’s ribs and he gasped for air, attempting to calm his racing heart and ignore the burning in his chest. “No, Supreme Leader, I have not strayed from your teachings. Believe me when I say I have grown more powerful with the force, since the arrival of this girl- Rey.” 

 

“ _ More powerful _ ?” bellows Snoke, his raspy voice reverberating through the red room. Kylo holds a flinch. “If you were ‘more powerful’, then this nuisance would have been dealt with. Do you think me a  _ fool _ , boy? I can sense when your power grows, and  _ you _ . _ are _ . **_weak_ ** .”

 

“Supreme Leader-” Kylo starts, but Snoke raises a hand and Kylo chokes. Snoke holds him there for a moment, listening to his pupil struggle for breath, a dangerous rage in his eyes as he extends a clawing hand. Then he takes it away, and air floods back into Kylo’s system. He coughs as Snoke hobbels back to his chair, settling into that same pensive position. His knuckles are pressed tightly to his withered lips as he glowers down at his sith prodigy. Kylo regains his composure, bowing his head as he kneels, breathing deeply. 

 

“You disappoint me, Kylo Ren,” Snoke continues, quieter now. “But-”

 

   Kylo raises his gaze, kissing his life goodbye in one moment, only to have that one word give it back.

 

“There has been something on my mind, recently. Something I’ve had planned for quite some time, and it could be the perfect punishment.” Snoke sneers down at Kylo, who shows no sign of worry, but is chilled to the bone. 

 

* * *

 

 

   You’d been avoiding him all afternoon. After the ceremony, you’d  both been escorted to the banquet hall, where an elaborate feast was held, after which many took part in fanciful dancing in the ballrom. You had escaped somewhere in between, seething as you wandered the castle grounds. Twice you had tried leaving, but stormtroopers blocked the major gates into the palace, and stood alert at almost every corner of the castle grounds. If only you had a 20,000 foot rope, you could repel off the cliffside and into the tsunami waves that crashed against them. Or perhaps you could just jump. The thought of falling down a ridiculously tall cliff amused you, but this was no time for amusements. You feet were beginning to ache in your bejeweled heels, and the hem of your wedding dress was becoming hampered and ratty. Not that it held value to you. 

 

   Today, you did not wed out of love. You did not marry out of financial support. You did not marry for family, no. Today, you were married under the threat of the First Order. Or rather, the invasion of your home and through the all too formal, impersonal proposal from the notorious Kylo Ren. Not that it had been the worst proposal you’d ever received, but unromantic and intimidating. Your parents had agreed almost instantly, fearing the wrath of the First Order but warming up to the lucrative offer of buying up every crystal pearl that came from the royal sea mines. Your family was able to pay for the most luscious wedding, and every esteemed noble woman or man, from every corner of your galaxy, paraded through your castle “ooh”ing and “ahh”ing, and congratulating you as if you had done a great service. 

 

   You suppose you had, making your parents 3 times richer than anyone within the Nuie nebula. The cost was dear, however. You’ve yet to look your bastard husband in the eyes. You had offered him no respects, made no move to communicate with him, ignored his presence and any gift he offered. He gave up after a third wedding gift, and the boxes sat in the corner of your bedroom, untouched. During your sealing kiss, you had closed your eyes, feeling him brush your lips before you jerked away and began walking yourself down the aisle. Sure, there had been playful whispers. The nobles gossiping about your prudency, applauding your wedding all the same. 

 

   Your mother shouts your name behind you and you jump, whipping around to face her. She is red in the face, features puckered in rage, her hands on her hips to glare at you. “Do you have any idea how long you’ve been gone?! People have been asking to see you for hours now! Where have you been? Oh! Your dress! Oh, what have you done?!” she cries, fussing over your hem. 

 

“I suppose I lost track of time, I just went to clear my head,” you lied dully, and she tugs you away quickly. “That is no excuse! This is your wedding, you should be socializing with the other married women!” Your mother takes you up to your room, and assigns you to sit on the bed. She mutters frantically to herself while searching through your closet for an appropriate gown. She pulls out a pale blue gown that rivals a cool white. The underbust is inladen with gold thread and crystal pearl, and the neckline and sleeves trimmed with the pearls as well. The fabric is light, and folds easily, draping over your figure. Your mother leads you downstairs, towards the ballroom filled with shrill laughter.

“I suggest you find your husband and apologize to him. He’s had no one to talk to for hours, and he stands in the corner very awkwardly.”

 

   You make no reply as the two of you enter the ballroom, laughter and music filling your ears. The room smells of sweet Hian champagne, the people dressed in their cultural finest, the room filled with flowers, exotic foods, and sparkling fabrics. The floors are alternating squares of gold and white marble, and the walls are painted with flirtatious murals. You can see your grandmother in her youth painted there, dancing with your grandfather as his hand rests mischievously on her bum. Your parents are painted there as well, huddling under the wings of two huge swans that shield them from the rain, while red roses are dotted with dew. Soon, you’ll be painted up there with your husband. The thought makes you pity the artist who would portrait the two of you, how dreary that piece will be. 

 

   You sigh, looking around for that tall, dark figure that haunted your future. You couldn’t spy him in the corners of the room, and nobody seemed to be avoiding a particular area which would indicate his presence. A waiter passed with a tray of Hian champagne and you snatched a glass as you went by. Raising the rim to your lips, the sweet and bubbly liquid ran across your tongue and filled your head with a fruity haze. The glass fell empty rather quickly. You made your way through the crowded room, hoping to find a chaise lounger in the corner by the great windows, on which you would hide away and fill your mind with that sweet, bubbly fog. 

 

  Upon passing the nobleman Uta’Lii’ar, your peripherals caught a glimpse of the nightmare that haunted you, standing further back into the crowd, alone and making a sour face into his champagne glass. His dark hair framed his long face and brushed against his crisp white doublet, unkempt. His intimidating stature kept most of the nobles a comfortable distance away, almost a foot taller than most of your guests. His head began to lift, and you started your walk again, hurrying through the crowd to reach your secluded haven. 

 

   The seated area by the windows looked vacant, and you switched out your glass with another waiter that passed by. With a sigh of relief, you settled yourself onto the cream velvet seater, rolling onto your hip and tucking your legs up underneath yourself. The other settees created a square in the corner, but your spot looked out over the cliffside into the raging sea. The sky was becoming a pastel purple and pink and a few of your planets moons became more visible. Jikoz, Klopeara, and Jitzewel all hung peacefully and pale against the sky, while the further moons of Ghoztin and F’derra had began their anticipated collision, the fire of their meeting burning the space around them. 

 

   You brought your glass to your lips, taking a sip before realizing someone had sat down by your feet. You paused, then brang your feet in closer to your body. You tilted your glass back, downing your drink unwisely, and stars swam in your vision before you recovered from the heavy, sweet cloud. Setting the emptied glass on the side table, you took a breath in attempt to steady yourself. 

 

“I hadn’t pictured you to be a heavy drinker,” he said, a type of accusation in his voice. 

 

   You pursed your lips and kept your eyes away from him, fiddling with your fingers. He waited for a moment, expecting a reply before continuing. 

 

“Should I get you another?” he asked, and it tempted you to speak, to get him to leave. 

 

   Again he waited for you, hunched over to rest his arms on his thighs, hands clasped together tightly. He sighed deeply, as if it took an enormous amount of effort to speak with you. He turned in his seat, pulling his arm up to rest of the back of the seater, fingers close to your shoulder. You avoided flinching from him. 

 

“What is the matter with you?” he growled lowly, his frustration seeping out from his teeth. 

 

   Your eyes flash with anger and you turn to face him. Cursing yourself, you hold his gaze, thrown off for a fraction of a second at how handsome his features actually were. His eyes burned with annoyance but you might consider them warm, were they not belonging to a war dog who you despised. You glowered for a good minute, keeping a glare as long as he did. 

 

“What is the matter with  _ me _ ?” you repeated, disgusted by his question. “ _ Oh, I’m so sorry, _ do you feel as if you are being treated unfairly?”

 

“That’s absolutely how I feel,” he grumbled. “I’ve never been ignored so completely by anyone in my life, you should reconsider your attitude, if you want to be happy with me.”

 

   You scoff, mouth twisting into a mirthful grimace. “You think I could be happy with you? You haven’t married me, you’ve kidnapped me. Stolen me away to fuel your pathetic ego. I could never be happy with you.” 

 

   He leans forward to spit an insult at you. “You are every bit as they say you are. I had hope that you wouldn’t be a prudent bitch with a god complex, but here you are, exceeding my expectations.” 

 

   That one stung you, and you leaned back from him, your features showing your pain. You turn your face from him, receding back into an angry facade as you recover from the blow.

 

_ Did everyone really say that about you?  _

 

   Kylo leaned away from you, taking his arm away from the back of the seater. “One-hundred and eighty-seven suitors, what a joke,” he mumbled, but you caught it, and let it fuel one last spiteful comment. 

 

“I don’t understand you at all. You force a marriage upon me, one that doesn’t seem to provide happiness for either side, and then you try to force me into caring for you. You’re an idiot. And I’ll tell you what else,” you seethed, standing to tower over him, but the effect his lost on his obvious height advantage. “I will be your greatest mistake, if that’s what it takes. I will be every bit the nagging wife that you expect me to be, and create such a misery in your life that you grant me my greatest wish. To be dumped on some planet far from you and your disgusting First Order.”

 

   He stands abruptly and almost knocks you back, brushing up against your front and breaking your rage. He intimidates you easily as he stands over you, looking down with a strange anger, almost looking like a warning. “If you speak ill of the First Order once more, you will not speak again. Your loyalties lie with mine, and I will not protect you from treason. And I’ll tell  _ you  _ what else-” 

 

   He lays his hands tightly on your shoulders and pulls you to his chest, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “My hatred for you grows every second, and with it, my power with the dark side. It would be wise to avoid my wrath,” he hisses, his breath hot and dangerous against your ear. His painful grip releases you and he storms off, disappearing into the crowd. 

 

No one seems to have noticed the spat between you two, and you hold yourself fearfully and gaze after him. You could feel a dangerous energy radiating from him, and his tone had left you cold. 

 

What would become of you now? The wife of the infamous Commander Kylo Ren, a driving force in the First Order. You needed a few more drinks. 


	2. A Substantial Amount of Effort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rather long, haha. The first scene felt to short to stand alone, so I decided to keep going with it. I personally appreciate longer chapters, so I hope you all will agree! In any case, I hope you enjoy, and I would love some feedback on your thoughts!

You could have screamed at Livo when she tore open the curtains that morning, humming to herself as she usually did. Instead, you let out a guttural noise and flung the covers over your head, blocking out the brightness. Your head throbbed steadily, feeling a beat of sickness from the Hian wine- or champagne, or whatever it was again.

 

Livo apologized quickly, and closed the curtains closest to you, leaving light for her to work. From your closet, she began to pull out your undergarments and a dress for your departure that afternoon. Your things had already been packed up and transported to wherever Kylo Ren was planning on taking you, all that was left were your essentials and some clothes. Livo drew your bath as you hid away under your covers, trying to find sleep again. Perhaps you would never wake up and live this nightmare. But Livo came to wake you when she had prepared everything, quietly calling your name and gently shaking your shoulder.

 

You keened from under the covers. “Livo, I am pleading with you. Leave me here,” you mumble. She chuckles nervously.

 

“Do you need any assistance in the bath?” she asks quietly. You deny any need for help, and she nods. “I’ll tell your mother you’re awake then. She’s anxious that you come down for breakfast.”

 

She leaves you to wallow, which you do for an extended amount of time before dragging yourself out of bed. You leave your eyes half open, and bump into things on the way to the bathroom, including your wedding gifts. You hadn’t even attempted to open these, as most of your gifts had been transported with your things. Trudging to the bathroom, you strip off your slip and sink into the warm bath. It almost puts you right back to sleep, the scent of sea-lilies calming your headache and soothing your aching body. You take a long while, rubbing the scent into your skin as you anticipate its absence. When your body starts to overheat, you decide to exit the bath, more awake now, though when you enter your room in your underthings, the light still hurts. You toss your dress onto your bed and fall back into the sheets, bouncing gently on the mattress.

 

Every step has been taken with a measure of delay. In everything, you have dragged your feet and stalled. What could you be waiting for?  What would your delay be rewarded with? You hoped to stay with your home a little while longer. Here, you had your parents, who you loved dearly. You had friends who visited from time to time, a city with an amazing culture and thriving economy. There were ships to take you anywhere you wished to be, however far away. In this castle, things were familiar, and you didn’t feel like a prisoner to it.

 

You wondered how Kylo Ren had even known about you. Your family was royal, yes, but only over a single planet, most families ruled multiple systems, sometimes entire galaxies. The crystal pearls your family mined were beautiful and tough, and were harvested for jewelry and tools. Is that all the First Order wanted with them?

 

You sigh and sit up, confused by your entire predicament. The presents in the corner catch your eye as you rub your cheek, and a moment of curiosity takes you. They are from Kylo, all of which aren’t very large. You figured them to be trinkets and had no interest in opening them, but you aimed to stall the morning.

 

You go to sit in front of them, taking the first one he sent into your hands. The oval shape fits simply in your palms, and upon ripping off the golden paper, you find the object to be a velvet box. Inside is topaz swan, nestled in a bed of silk. There is a tiny letter in the top half of the box. Setting your gift aside, you open the letter and unfold the page. It is written in a handsome font.

 

“My dear princess,

 

It excites me to no end that you have accepted my proposal. It is my objective to assume a role that is-”

 

You skip to the end.

 

“I hope you find these promises to be true.

 

Cordially, Commander Kylo Ren of the First Order”

 

You boredly put the letter back into the swan box, and grab the second present. Unwrapped, it is a beautifully carved and painted jewelry box, a depiction of two lovers in a nest on the lid. The concept is a little strange. Upon lifting the lid, there lies a beautiful diamond ring, the band molded into leaves that wrap around the little jewel. In the space next to it, a small scroll. You unfurl the note.

 

“Dear princess,

 

Perhaps you did not receive my last gift, as I received no letter following the confirmed deliverance of my generosity. Please accept this more substantial gift and my most humblest wishes-”

 

Skip, skip, skip

 

“Sincerely, Commander Kylo Ren of the First Order”

 

You scoffed. “He is so entitled to his appreciation, isn’t he?” you ask no one in particular, a taunting smile on your face.

 

You open the largest gift given to you, inside you find doll with long silken hair and an elaborate dress on. She looks like Ghyuin royalty with golden accents on her wide sleeved robe and intricate floral silks. You also find a letter writing set and laugh honestly. The paper holder is a heavy silver, with a matching pen, and his silent request is not lost on you. Silver flowers decorate the molding, and the paper is edged with silver as well, with matching envelopes. You find the last letter at the bottom and you grow excited. You smile as you rip open the letter and find a very short note, written shakily.

 

“Princess,

 

I assume you be childish and immature, and have concluded that you are ill-mannered and the most unfortunate choice for a bride. I give you this doll so that you may play with a toy instead of men’s hearts. I also whole-heartedly believe you will never open this gift and so I give you this letter set in a deep sense of irony. Should I ever receive one of these letters, I would embarrass myself so purposefully, that even you with your icy heart would have pity on me.

 

Regretfully yours, Commander Kylo Ren of the First Order.”

 

You fall back, laughing spitefully. Every word surprised you with how petty and entitled it was. His anger at the absence of your immediate approval was entirely comical, and you mourned that he had given up securing your favor so easily. Imagining the time and energy he took to create a gift solely to be insulting left you blissfully happy and the giggles fell from you like an endless waterfall.

 

In your fit, you pulled a silvery paper from your letter tray and began a response with the matching pen.

 

“Most Sincere Commander Kylo Ren,

 

You have amused me so completely. How do I begin to explain the irony of your own words? You claim that my heart is desolate when you’ve never felt your own heart beat. You call me childish while you whimper about not receiving instant gratification for your minimal effort. You are a spoiled brat, and a coward for not confronting me personally. Before you embarrass yourself so purposefully, might I suggest you fall to your hands and knees in front of your Supreme Leader and squeal like the little pig you are? I anticipate your response with every fiber of my being.

 

With the utmost sincerity, truly yours forever, the Princess of Lunzar”

 

You sign the letter with merriment, smugly tucking the letter into an envelope and addressing it neatly. You wanted so dearly to give it to him now, to run downstairs and watch his face pucker like sour fruit, to turn bright red like molten metal. Perhaps not during breakfast, you would put it somewhere to find on his own.

 

With resolve, you tuck the letter into your parting luggage and slip your dress on to go to breakfast. This one shimmered a soft gold, with a jewel neckline and a empire waist. You practically skipped down the stairs and towards the dining hall. Livo appeared in front of you, looking frantic. She sighed in relief upon finding you. “Thank goodness. Your mother is quiet anxious to have you at breakfast, come now,” she said, leading you quickly down the palace halls. “Please, your grace,” she whispered back to you. “Be kind to the Commander. He is in a terrible mood.”

 

“I’m not sure what his ‘good mood’ would look like,” you retort, wincing against the bright light as the two of you entered the hall.

 

The floor was made of white, rectangular, marble tiles, the walls were just as bright a white. Crisp white organza curtains fluttered at the windows, one of which was cracked open to allow the salty ocean breeze to flutter in, along with the sweetness of sea-lillies. In the middle of the room sat a long, dark wood table, laden with silver dishes, candle holders, tall vases stacked with fern leaves, and gathered around in their dark wood chairs were some of the nobles and family members from the night before. Your parents sat at the far end of the table, your mother to the right of your father and Kylo two chairs to the left of your father.

 

Seeing you in the doorway, your mother went from smiling to a quick scolding look. She turned her attention back to your Kylo, smiling politely and laughing at something he said. You take a deep sigh and Livo pats your shoulder reassuringly. Passing the rest of the table, your mother alerts the conversation to your arrival. Kylo glances at you over his shoulder before returning to his meal, he is wearing a simple, collarless button up in a blue-grey.

 

You pass the empty chair between him and your father and decide to sit on the other side of your mother. Your aunt greets you charmingly from the right as you sit down, before returning to her conversation. You greet her back, glancing at Kylo quickly. He seems engrossed in his meal and you felt a twinge of annoyance at the lack of acknowledgment.

 

“Darling? Why don’t you go sit next to him?” your mother whispers to you. You both glance at Kylo, who takes a bite of his breakfast before meeting your eyes daringly. You hold the gaze for a moment, before replying to your mother.

 

“He seems alright,” you reply casually, reaching for the glass pitcher holding Hian juice. You steal a glance to catch his reaction, and he simply bounces his brows before continuing his meal. You ready your own plate filled with native fruits, fresh bread with butter, and cold beans and sausage.

 

“So, darling,” your mother begins, clearing the awkward air. “Kylo says he’s letting you choose the honeymoon spot.”

 

“Oh, how gracious of him,” you reply dully, peeling the thin skin off a ripe Yuu fruit, “what have I decided?”

 

Your mother blanks, but Kylo fills in the space. “Brafarlius,” he states curtly.

 

“ _Brefarlius_?” you sneer, looking at him with disgust.

 

“Yes. Brefarlius,” he repeats, meeting your gaze challengingly. “They have beautiful beaches.”

 

“There are no beaches on Brefarlius, it’s an ice desert,” you drone.

 

“Everywhere is a beach then. Besides, I have to speak with someone there. It’s two trips in one,” he reasons, sausage poised on his fork.

 

You stare at him in disbelief, and he ignores you, eating again.

 

“I can’t believe you,” you mutter, poking at your breakfast.

 

“What?’ he asks.

 

“Nothing,” you spit irately, “If that’s what I’ve chosen, then Brefarlius it is.”

 

Kylo glances up at you but you avoid his gaze, poking harshly at your fruit. He seems satisfied with your puckering expression, and you pretend he’s a slice of sweet gourd. That slice of sweet gourd is abused by your fork.

 

Your mother buzzes with nervous energy at the awkward atmosphere, the clicking of your fork and the chatter of the other members of the table twittering in the background.

 

Your father humphs. “Breferlius is wonderful this time of year.”

 

“Anderus,” your mother scolds, to which he shrugs defensively.

 

Your parents talk while you and Kylo meet eyes. Your lip is curled up at him while he looks steadily into your eyes. After a moment, he purses his lips at you in a mock kiss, drawing a childish noise from you. You immediately drop your gaze to your plate and begin to cut up your cold sausage. Your reaction pulls a quiet laugh from him, which he stifles with his hand, pretending to wipe his mouth and returning to his stoic demeanor. It surprises you that he is able to laugh, and he avoids your eyes for the rest of the meal.

 

Your headache worsens.

 

* * *

 

  


You’ve said your tearful goodbyes to your family members, your more distant family comforting you and providing hopeful thoughts. The few friends that have stayed until the afternoon offer you advice and encourage you. Livo says her own goodbye and hands a trooper your luggage, which she informs holds the gifts she found in your room.

 

“I have hope he will be kind to you,” she says. You know she can’t read the notes, but you give her a hug and thank her anyways.

 

You board the small cruiser with the troopers and Kylo. The troopers settle into the back while you go with Kylo to the pilots pit. Seeing your family and friends blow kisses through the window creates a lump in your throat and you wave back to them. The ship lifts into the air and you watch yourself rise higher into the sky until the oceans become visible and define the continents and all the cities disappear. You watch your home planet grow smaller and less defined, and then you shoot off into space.

 

As the ship speeds through the stars, you are overcome with loneliness. You hadn’t anticipated to mourn your home, too focused on loathing your fiance. Now, you suppose you must loathe your husband. Kylo speaks up.

 

“We’re heading to the main transport ship, and then to Brefarlius,” he informs, and you startle.

 

“So soon?” you replied.

 

“Yes, I need to meet an informant immediately,” he says it as if it’s obvious. You’re quiet.

 

A realization hits you. “I don’t have anything to wear,” you point out, looking over at him. Your home planet was always quite warm and so your closet consisted of light, breathable clothing.

 

“Just wear one of your dresses,” he grumbles, eyes out to space, and you give him a stupid look.

 

“A dress is not going to keep me from freezing to death in an ice desert. Did you have anything prepared for me?”

 

He makes no reply, eyes tightening. The longer you stare at him and wait for a response, his jaw tightens further and mouth goes rigid. He tosses you a glance and then frowns. “What? What do you expect from me? I don’t have anything.” You gape. The main transport ship can be seen from the pilot pit now, and your ship glides towards it.

 

“Besides, it’s your fault for choosing Brefarlius,” he mutters and your eyes narrow.

 

“Are you joking, right now?”

 

“ _Yes_ ,” he admits, side-eyeing you, clearly annoyed. _“I’m joking._ Nobody wants to go to Brefarlius, that’s why we’re going.”

 

The statement was ironic, but you understood. This meeting would have to be private, and perhaps the informant had set it up that way. You wouldn’t want to be associated with the First Order, at least not publicly. However, it was obviously too late for you. You had nothing else to say and so the distance between you and the transporter was crossed with no other words. They would definitely have something put together before you sailed down to Brefarlius.

 

The cruiser entered the main flight deck, landing softly and powering down with a whirr. The storm troopers exited quickly, and you decided to follow Kylo outside. On the deck were a great deal of people, ranging from engineers to fighter pilots. Some people just stood around and talked while stormtroopers trained in the background. Directly outside the ship stood a red-haired man who you recognized as General Hux. Stepping down the cruisers ramp, Kylo addressed him.

 

“General,” he acknowledged grumpily, aiming to walk past but the General stepped in front of him with a sly grin.

 

“Commander, welcome back. I hope you had a marvelous time on Lunzar,” he said, his voice filled with insincerity. The angle of his smile disturbed you and you sensed an immediate tension and competition between the two. “The Supreme Leader insists you hold a holo-conference with him at once,” he informs, before shifting his sights to you.

 

“Ah, Princess Ren, isn’t it now? Lovely, aren’t you?” he mused, stepping around Kylo to approach you. He takes your hand and gives it a long kiss. “I’ve heard so much about you, Princess. We anticipate your arrival will provide a greater comfort in our Commanders lonely heart,” he says. You eye him carefully before responding. Every word of his seems laced with a greater understanding, like he’s in on some great joke. He’s entirely too pleasant with his speech while his eyes burn for chaos.

 

“Ah-thank you, General Hux. I wasn’t aware my presence here would be so appreciated,” you say, leaning a bit away from his strange demeanor. His hand tightens slightly around yours.

 

“And isn’t it appreciated?” he asks softly, looking down at you triumphantly, grinning wider. Kylo is observing the encounter and you flicker an uneasy look to him. Perhaps the General was always so strange and cryptic? You decide maybe it best to smile back at the General and manage a tight, polite offering. General Hux studies you for a moment, eyes searching your face before he hums and turns to Kylo Ren, tucking your arm into his.

 

“Your attention is required by the Supreme Leader at once. I will escort your love to your suite and give the basic tour. Dismissed, Commander,” he smirked, and began dragging you away. You feared for a moment to be led anywhere by this man, but Kylo put a hard hand against Hux’s shoulder.

 

“General. Never dismiss me again. We both know our place,” Kylo growled deeply, before releasing him to walk out of the hanger. You watched him cross the long flight deck and looked up at Hux to see fear and disappointment float through his features. He turned his head down to you and gave an awkward smile. “Well. Perhaps, I should show you about, hm?” he proposed. His bravado had vanished and his smug personality was replaced by that of command.

 

“I would appreciate that very much, General,” you agree softly, wondering him to be a coward, or a rat.

 

Hux clears his throat and began to lead you in the opposite direction of Kylo.

 

He leads you through the winding halls of the ship, pointing out a library, the mess hall, and the path to the main pilot pit. You pass many rooms, where you assume people sleep, a communal bathroom, and further into the ship you begin to pass private common areas, where you spied groups of officers chatting on plush sofas about important matters. Further along, were the private quarters for higher ups. General Hux stopped in front of one of these, typing in a code to the door panel. It clicked and then slid open easily, and the inside was quite the opposite from what you had expected.

 

Perhaps it was a bit malicious to think the Commanders room would be stark black- black walls, black floors, black wood, black bookends. Instead, you were surprised that the walls were white and smooth, like the rest of the ship and the room extended farther than you had expected. The floor tiles were the same white, and there were two large windows on the back wall, looking out across the galaxy, the glass bubbling outwards for a fish-eye view. A large bed sat between these windows, dressed in textured, gray muslins and white cottons, laden with pillows of all sizes. To the left appeared to be a wide closet, molded into the wall discreetly, with a dresser accompanying it to the side. Another door was on this wall, and you assumed it to be a bathroom. To the right of the bed, sat a simple, white side table that was topped with silver dish and a digital clock. Further right, a similarly simple, white horizontal bookcase, filled with wide, greying texts. A couch and a large lounge chair in a dark leather sat huddled around a square, white coffee table at the front of the room. Your luggage sits at the foot of the bed.

 

“Here you are, your Grace,” the General Hux announced waving you inside, you took a tentative few steps inside your new room. “I hope you find it to your liking, princess. Should you want for anything, call me personally on the intercom.”

 

“Actually, general-” you turn to ask him about some proper attire for your “honeymoon” but the door closes before you can say anything. As it does, you catch a glimpse of the General’s smirk. The door closes you off from the outside and you suddenly feel uneasy. You turn back towards the room, wondering how to spend your time. Your fingers begin to fiddle, and you look over to the bookcase by the bed. Perhaps one of the tomes in there could entertain you.

 

You cross the room and kneel down to pick out something that looked interesting. Your finger trails over the titles as you read them. _The Beginnings of the Jedi, The Beginnings of the Sith, The Dark Lord Vader: a vage biography, Becoming One With the Dark Side: a guide for the force insensitive, The Dew on the Wool, Understanding the Mechanics of Your Lightsaber: version 1834, The Troubling Murders of Scarlit Satchian-_

You picked the least scary one, _The Dew on the Wool_. The covor was a soft ruby color, a sheep sleeping on the front with a red ribbon around its neck. You raised a brow, amused at the childish novel, thumbing to the middle of the book to read a random passage. You paled at the first sentence, caught up in a horrific fascination for the next few lines before closing the cover, and quickly returning it to its place. You’d have to request novels pertaining more to your interests.

 

Your luggage by the bed took your attention next, figuring it to be a good idea to plan an outfit for your excursion to the ice desert. For a few minutes, you paw through what you have, finding some black leather riding pants, thick socks, and a thin knitted cardigan. Begrudgingly, you realize you won’t nearly be warm enough, and would have to request additional gear.

 

You look over at the closet and dresser by the wall. Perhaps, you could borrow something. Your face contorts into a grimace. There isn’t any way you’d wear that _beasts_ clothes, or any reason why he would accept such a thing. You’d have to find the intercom. General Hux made you uneasy but perhaps he wasn’t unkind. You’d done nothing to invoke a negative reputation either. On the wall, by the door, you find a possible option. There is a touchpad integrated into the wall, a few icons hover over the symbol of the resistance. Hesitantly, you tap one, disappointed when it pulls up what looks to be a database. The next one brings you better luck, pulling up a keypad with many symbols. But you’re not sure it helps, considering he hadn’t given a number. You stumble through the remaining icons, switching back and forth to find an answer while becoming increasingly frustrated.

 

Hux _was_ an unkind, spiteful man, wasn’t he?

 

The door opens beside you, and you startle. Kylo does not expect to see you either, it seems, head snapping towards you, alert. His angry stare pierces into you.

 

“What are you doing?” he accuses, taking a step inside and reaching around you to close your multiple tabs.

 

“I was only trying to call General Hux,” you say, defending yourself. You hadn’t been doing anything wrong.

 

Kylo’s brow furrows and he looks at you suspiciously. “Why would you need to do that?”

 

His tone makes you uncomfortable, and his body separates you from the rest of the room. You feel almost pinned into the corner.

 

Impatiently, you respond, “well, as I’ve said, I haven’t anything to make the trip to Brefarlius. I can make do with a few things-” you gesture towards the bed, where your clothes have been laid out, “but not nearly as much as I need.”

 

He sighs deeply through his nose, keeping your frustrated gaze, before he practically pushes you aside to access the touchpad. “What do you need,” he grunts, harshly pressing a few quick icons.

 

“uhm-boots, a coat, a cowl, gloves?” you rattle things off quickly, and the screen beeps rhythmically, loading a call. “-perhaps a scarf-”

 

“Commander,” the voice of the General interrupted.

 

“My wife- _the princess_ ,” Kylo began with a growl, before correcting himself, “requests appropriate gear to visit Brefarlius. What preparations do we have?”

 

“None,” replies the General. “However, I’ll send someone with what we can find. For the princess, I’m sure we can be more than accommodating,” he continues.

 

Kylo promptly ends the call, turning and striding to the bedside where he promptly rips open the closet. You watch him yank articles of clothing out and throw them on the dresser, glancing at the bed with your things and grimacing. He scoffs loudly as he pulls open his dresser and searches for other pieces. You watch him with concern, unsure with what to do. You decide it best to move your things out of his way and let him work out whatever mood he’s decided to be in quietly. As, you approach your belongings he whips around with an grimace.

 

“You know what I think of you?” he growls. “I think you're annoying. And inconvenient.” He turns from you to pocket something from his dresser, and you make a face at him. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” you chuff, beginning to move things back into your suitcase. “My intentions were to be as gratifying as possible. Please forgive my irrational requests.”

 

He snatches an armoured coat and tugs it on. “I hate you,” he spits, before stomping towards the door like a child. You rage as your face turns pink with the insult and he almost leaves before you shout to him. “The feeling is mutual!” you bark, hands bundled angrily in a dress.

 

He stops to look back at you over his shoulder, the two of you sharing expressions. He glowers but says nothing else, and the stare down fills you with some form of power. Perhaps you are blinded by your rage. He leaves, and you huff, tossing fabric and childishly shoving things into a trunk. Your mind races with revenge plots, all of which involve something physical, but your mind jumps to your letter, written earlier that morning. You tear through your luggage, ripping it out of your other gifts and a collection of shoes. With a racing heart, you leap to the collection of clothes on the dresser, finding the first thing that had a pocket and shoving it inside.

 

There, that would show him.

 

A strongly worded letter.

 

The concept in no way deters you and eventually you find something to distract yourself with, waiting for Kylo to return and announce your departure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you fare? I'm glad you made it! Or maybe you skipped a bunch, but that's alright, haha. What are you ready to see? Also, please let me know if you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> A.) I enjoyed this chapter  
> B.) This chapter was a bit too lengthy for me  
> C.) I want to know where the plot is going  
> D.) I would like to see the reader and Kylo develop their relationship  
> E.) I would like to see the reader and Kylo at each others throats more often >:)
> 
> If you have something else to say, let me know! You guys are my inspiration and your feedback helps to shape the story! :)


	3. We Cherish the Warmth We Recieve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having a great time writing this, and I hope you guys are enjoying. Also, where is the plot going? Does anyone else know? We'll figure it out, I guess. Also, I guess spoiler warning for Return of the Jedi? But, like... anyway, enjoy! :)

  Kylo stepped into the holo-conference room, the door sliding shut behind him. It was quiet in the circular room, dimly lit by blue panels near the floor. The walls were dark, and insulated well, keeping all conversations inside the room. Kylo stepped to the standing panel by the holo pad and requested an audience with his Supreme Leader. He bowed to a knee, waiting for Snoke’s towering holofigure to appear. Snoke’s form shimmered into existence, casting light across the floor, dominating the space entirely.

 

“Commander,” rumbled Snoke’s voice, echoing slightly in the holo-room. Kylo rose to his full height, facing his master.

 

“Supreme Leader,” he spoke, waiting for some measure of beratement.

 

Snoke was quiet for a moment, gazing down at his pupil with a soft, secret sneer. “So,” his voice echoed, rumbling in Kylo’s chest, “how do you find her?”

 

Kylo swallowed, his eyes steady while his heart clenched in disgust. “She is a good match,” he lied softly.

 

“Oh?” Supreme Leader Snoke purred, cocking a withered brow, his grin widening.

 

“Yes, master. You have chosen well for me, thank you.” Kylo bowed his head and Snoke chuckled darkly.

 

“You love her then,” Snoke rumbled, and Kylo snaps his gaze back to his master, barely avoiding a look of offense.

 

Composing himself, he speaks. “No,” he admits cooldy.

 

Snoke’s eyes narrow, his cracked lips forming a tight line. “Then you lie to me when you say she is a worthy spouse?”

 

Dread spills through Kylo and he swallows. “I’m sorry, master. I only meant to accept my punishment.”

 

“You are confused on my intentions,” Snoke states.

 

“Yes, but I know you are wise and I do not mistrust you,” Kylo admits.

 

Snoke ponders this answer for a moment, long, craggy fingers drumming on the arm of his throne- once, twice. “You have forgone your helmet. Before, I considered it your crutch, a boy playing a role, but perhaps I took your persona away too quickly,” he rumbles. “Your ambition has faltered, you are a _husk_ of the once fearsome Kylo Ren, I have almost given up on you-”

 

“Master, I am still fearsome! I will crush any that oppose-” Kylo’s outburst is silenced with Snoke’s booming voice.

 

“ ** _You are a shell of the man you once were. You were weakened, your ego bruised and your spirit cowering from the strength of my teachings_**.”

 

A great density filled the air, Kylo’s heart pounding in his ears, counting his outburst as his dying breath. The dangerous buzz in the air dissipates and Snoke continues.

 

“However, just this morning, I felt a stir in your power, in your solidarity,” Snoke hums. “The dark side is stronger through love, sadness, pain- yes. But Kylo-”

 

Snoke leans over his pupil, his sneer returning. “Trust your feelings for this woman to be my teachings. Men are weak to love. Practice your cruelty, defy the creed of your race, rise stronger than all before you. You pleased me with the destruction of your father, I have faith I will be pleased again.”

 

“Yes, master,” Kylo breathes, and Snoke’s hologram dissipates.  

 

Kylo exits the room swiftly, striding down the halls back to his quarters.

 

_Trust your rage, trust your rage._

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Brefarlius was colder than you could’ve ever imagined. The wind cut straight your cowl and gloves and seeped into the coat that hugged your body. However, that could be partly the Generals fault.

 

 _“Unfortunately, we only had a light winter coat in storage,”_ _Hux had said, producing a quilted white puffer._ “ _Beggars can’t be choosers”_

 

You hadn’t believed a word that dripped from that snake’s mouth.

 

Your arms were huddled around your frame, hands tucked under your arms to avoid the howling wind. The fur lined hood of your coat shielded you from some of the environment, but the snow still bit your face and iced your ears. The tall white snow boots thankfully kept anything from seeping into your thick socks, and your dark grey cargo pants were thick and heavy, blocking the chill. A black bodysuit underneath it all wicked away any moisture and offered and extra layer of warmth, up until your fingers and neck.

 

Kylo had stopped inside an officer's tent, ordering you to stay outside.

“Will you be long?” you asked, teeth already chattering gently. He had ignored you completely, which left you to admire the beautiful “beaches” around you.

 

From where you exited the ship, you sat at the bottom of a great cliffside, tall, snowy mountains looming over the area. Other mountain ranges and glaciers peaked up from the horizon, surrounding the great snow valley you sat on. You wondered if you sat on a giant frozen lake, or that maybe it would just be considered a giant glacier. Jagged holes in the surface of the ice valley created dark pocks, and the few tents around the temporary camp had to plan rather carefully to avoid the crumbling edges of the deep caves. At the base of the cliffside you faced, sat a peaceful igloo, nestled in peninsula of ice pockets. A group of stormtroopers guarded the outside, and you marveled at their tolerance of the weather.

 

Kylo appeared out the officers’ tent and you breathed a sigh of relief, shaking dramatically.

 

“Are you done?!” you chattered, teeth clacking loudly while your fingers turned numb. Kylo seemed perfectly comfortable in his thick, grey canvas coat. His hood was pulled over his head and the mottled grey-brown fur tickled his reddening cheeks. A knit, navy scarf was tucked around his neck and into his coat.

 

“No,” he droned, moving past you and towards the igloo on the peninsula. You followed quickly behind him. Confused and bitter about the weather, you tried to piece things together.

 

“Don’t tell me we’re staying there,” you quipped, stumbling through the snow, which deepened by the minute.

 

“ _No_ ,” he droned again, sounding annoyed.

 

You both approached the opening of the igloo. Kylo reached for the heavy velvet curtain and pulled it aside for you. “Are we staying at all?” you asked, ducking inside.

 

“Would you _shut up_?” he whined, ducking in behind you.

 

Inside, lay a collection of reed mats and thick carpets on the ice floor, a fur bed tucked into the corner and a foldable table in the center of the room, behind which stood a man. He looked quite nervous, twirling his hands and intertwining his stubby fingers, while two troopers stood on either side of him. His ears were long and flopped over themselves. He was bald and without nostrils, just two opening and closing holes but otherwise looked like a man. He was layered heavily in leathers and furs, and his body was quiet round and lumpy while his limbs were thin and wiry.

 

“Commander Ren of the First Order, it is truly a pleasure to meet with you,” the man spoke fast and worriedly.

 

“Your cooperation is appreciated. The First Order has promised you a hefty sum for this information,” Kylo responded, stepping forward to the table, where yellowing scrolls lay over spread maps.

 

“No, thanks needed. I am proud to serve the order,” he replied, gesturing towards the documents on the table.

 

Kylo squinted at him and picked up the first scroll, unfurling it as he began to read. The man smiled and folded his small hands into his sleeves, before his gaze fell to you. His grin faltered. “Who are you?” he asked, seeming a bit worried.

 

“Oh, my mistake. I am the princess of Lunzar,” you explained, formalities naturally taking over. You give a half-sincere smile. “And your name?”

 

“Ohh,” he replies taking a glance at Kylo before giving you a sad smile. “Don’t you worry about that, now. I-I do remember you, though.”

 

You’re surprised, you’ve never seen this man. “Really?” you blink.

 

“Yes, my wife and I were traders, just started transporting your, uh, crystal pearls, we were.” He smiles like it’s a sad memory.

 

“Oh, I wish you luck!” you grin, happy to meet someone who knew your home world.

 

Kylo suddenly looks up at the man, but he doesn’t notice, chuckling at your conversation. “Ah, sadly we’re not in the business. Mostly her-” he explains, before Kylo’s hand reaches out and latches around the man’s neck. He chokes, you startle, the troopers step back and raise their weapons, and Kylo throws the small table to the side.

 

“You said you had information, do not toy with The First Order. Where is it?” he growls lowly. You’re horrified as the man gasps and croaks for air, but instead he slowly pulls a long slender device from his sleeve, his stubby thumb pressing a small button.

 

“Right… here…” he croaks, and your eyes grow wide, an electrical buzzing coming from the man’s lumpy body.

 

Kylo drops him and the man falls, taking a final breath before his lips try to form his last words.

 

The explosion sends you flying, your back slamming against crumbling ice blocks, and then through them, and then down down down. Your hearing grows silent and you violently tumble down a steep slope, spinning and twisting and rolling over yourself, your limbs flying limply and every impact against the ice coursing pain through your side, your back, your skull, your cheek, your legs, your shoulders. You crash against the ground, rolling a bit further, where you settle motionless. You can’t breathe, you don’t move, your eyes spin behind your heavy lids, every limb screaming in pain as your brain seers. It feels like hours before your chest takes a tiny gasp, and then another, your ribs crying out to let you asphyxiate instead, but you take a breath and then another. You’re coughing, your ears have been ringing. You breath, you breath, and you breath. When you crack open your eyes, the room is spinning. You gasp for breath and a new pain erupts through your being. Adrenaline courses through your blood and you notice your cheek is burning as it rests against the dark icy floor. The dizzying shapes of your surroundings come together as you regain consciousness. You don’t dare sit up yet, your body still throbbing terribly, but it’s becoming less debilitating.

 

 Your eyes begin to close again before you feel a sudden pull on your ankle. You cry out as you slide across the floor, but the force releases you just as quickly.

 

“ _Good… you’re… alive_ ,” you hear Kylo croak sarcastically, you have no energy to retort. You’re breathing is shallow and labored now. You decide to rest, save your strength to get out of here.

 

You here Kylo scraping against the ice, taking a step before he crashes to the ground by your feet.

 

“If you’re broken, tell me, so I can leave you here,” he huffs, to which you again stay silent. You didn’t have time for him, you were exhausted. He grabs your ankle and shakes you roughly, sending a jolt of pain up your leg.

 

“Hey, you can’t rest, you’ll freeze before you wake up… get up,” he huffs. You hear him rising again, and he scoots closer to where you lay. He turns you from your side onto your back and you grunt loudly at him, arms flopping like dead weight. His hand cradles your jaw and shakes you gently to which you peel your eyes open again, trying hard to focus on him.

 

He’s fuzzy but he looks scared. There’s a cut on his temple, his bashed chin is bloody, and his lip is split open. His hair is disheveled and harboring snow, you’re sure you look just as awful.

 

 His hand raises up and comes down hard on your thigh and the surge of pain pulls a gasp from you, that turns into a shout. Your mind is yanked awake and suddenly Kylo is lifting you. He pulls you up and throws your arm around his shoulder, stumbling as he tries to set your feet under you. You try to gain purchase against the ground and you can feel him limping. The two of you pant harshly as he walks you both towards a tunnel in the cavern wall. The ice reflects enough surface light to see a few feet ahead, but not much else. The walk helps to clear your head and you focus on your injuries. Nothing feels broken, just battered from head to toe. Your neck aches and each step is accompanied by a tingling sensation in your ankles. A trickle of blood runs down your cheek and drops onto your bodysuit. Kylo is limping dramatically on his right leg. Eventually, you tighten your arm around his shoulder to steady yourself, trying to walk for yourself, and maybe support whatever injury he has.

 

“What happened?” you croak, mind beginning to reel.

 

“Didn’t have information,” Kylo huffs. He stumbles on his next step and you try to support his weight. You can’t do much as he’s twice your size. Your briefly remember you hate him but decide against making him your enemy right now.

 

“Is he…”

 

“Let’s focus on surviving,” he suggests, the two of you entering another cavern.

 

You continue walking together at a slow pace, the chill of Brefarlius settling in again. You find that you are without your coat and Kylo is without his. One of his gloves is gone along with the scarf. The cold settles in your bones, and with it, fear. The fear that you will wander these ice caverns until you freeze. The fear of never seeing friends or family again.

 

Your knees give out while you pass through a tunnel, you’re breathing growing shallow. Kylo is dragged to the ground with you. “We can’t make it,” you gasp, your head tingling. “We’re stuck here, what if we never get out.”

 

“Get a grip. We have to keep moving,” Kylo grumbles, rubbing at his swelling ankle.

 

“There’s no point,” you cry, tears spilling over as you blubber for air. You sob for a moment and then Kylo scoffs.

 

“Fear is a weakness, and weakness will get you killed,” he says, “you have to be strong.”

 

You sputter, wiping away tears and trying to control yourself. His words ring true, and you attempt to stifle your crying. Kylo studies you, watching your tears dry up into hiccups. A tear rolls down your cheek and he slowly reaches up to wipe it away. You startle at his touch and he looks surprised with himself, drawing his hand quickly and pushing himself up to totter on one leg. He holds out a hand for you and you look up at him, cheeks soaked in tears.

 

 _‘He looks so…”_ you can’t find a word to finish the thought. Kylo is stoic as ever, waiting patiently for you. You take his hand gently and he pulls you to stand, putting his arm around your shoulder to lean against you. You take his weight and support him as you two begin again, slow and steady.

 

A distant roar chills you both to the bone. You both meet eyes. For a moment, you wonder if it was only the wind, a blissful hope that shatters easily.

 

“Hurry,” Kylo whispers, and you both start to hobble faster through the ice caves.

 

The tunnels behind you begin to fill with noise, some creature grunting deeply as its weight rattled the caves around it. It roared again, and you glance behind you to see its shadow move along the wall.

 

“Run,” you whisper, and the thundering footsteps of the beast become deafening, racing towards you as fast as your heartbeat in your chest. “Run!” you say again, pulling Kylo with you. He grunts painfully at his wounded ankle but keeps up with you, his hand settling on his saber hilted on his hip. Up ahead is another large cavity in the tunnels, a light streaming down from above and filled with stalagmites rising from the floor. You run inside and Kylo drags the two of you behind an ice pillar, igniting his saber as you two huddle under cover.

 

“You’re not going to fight that thing, are you?!” you whisper harshly, hearing it roar in frustration.

 

Kylo looks at you with a fire in his eyes. “Fear ensures death,” he hisses.

 

“Fear is a natural instinct that keeps you from getting ripped open on an ice desert!” you hiss back. “You’re an idiot!”

 

“I am not going to argue with you right now. I’m getting us out of here, no matter how much you question my capabilities.”

 

“How are you supposed to _fight_ something, when you’re a _fucking cripple?_! _I’m not questioning your capabilities, I’m questioning your sanity!_ ”

 

You gasp and cower as the creature bashes against the wall of the tunnel, alerting you both to its presence in the room. Carefully, you peer around the pillar and watch the beast stalk into the room, its massive claws clicking against the ice.

 

Its body is stout and covered in long, silky, white strands of fur that drape down the strong legs, to which snow sticks to in small clumps. The creatures tail and neck are both long and thick with muscle. Its narrow, triangular face scans around the cave, its devilish ears swiveling frantically. The long mouth splits open to reveal thin, razor teeth and it lets out a menacing snarl. Long hair covers the face and it has no eyes.

 

It begins to stalk the stalagmites and you turn, pale as a ghost, back to Kylo- but he isn’t there. He’s hobbling between the ice pillars, blade clutched tight in his fist. The beast paces around the cavern, letting out more and more grunts as he gains the scent of his prey. You watch in horror as Kylo jumps from behind one stalagmite to another, favoring his foot.

 

“Kylo!” you whisper harshly, terrified at being left alone. The monster snarls at your noise and you recognize you mistake. You press your back against the ice, a hand slapping over your mouth, paralyzed, as you hear heavy footfalls stalk in your direction. You lean your head back, holding back a sob, fearing what comes next.

The beast snarls and snaps its jaws hungrily, almost upon you. Its massive head peaks around the pillar, slobber dripping onto your shoulder and it hisses in triumph, lips twitching as it prepares to strike.

 

Kylo’s blade rips through its snout, shaving the muscle off the bone. The creature howls and screams in pain, jumping back in agony. Kylo wraps an arm under your shoulders and hauls you off the ground, pulling you into a run. You two barely avoid the swipe of the creature’s massive claws as it rips the stalagmite in half, sending chunks of ice flying into the wall. Its tail thumps in rage as it howls, scratching at where you two were, both of you running for another tunnel. As soon as it realizes its prey is escaping, far into the tunnels, it races towards you again. Kylo seems to be pushing through his pain and your fear keeps your sobs from suffocating you.

 

The tunnel you travel in begins to lighten, and when you finally see an exit you feel as if you could fly, with the wave of euphoria that fills you. Behind you, the beast barrels closer, although it is much slower from its wound. The light is blinding, and as you reach the entrance, Kylo wrenches you to a halt, preventing you both from hurtling off the cliff side. You cry out in exasperation, scanning for a way down, the tough wind snapping at your skin and fresh tears.

 

“This way!” Kylo says, pulling you two to the side of the wall, where a short ledge peeks out.

 

Kylo begins to scoot along the wall, clinging to your wrist as you follow his lead. The icy ledge feels unstable under both your feet, barely fitting your across the length of it. On the other side, too far away, is another ledge with pillowy snow laid atop a hill. All you had to do was avoid falling.

 

The creature swipes at you around the corner, and you squeal. Kylo attempts to pull you faster but almost tosses you off the ledge. The two of you hobble as fast as you can, the icy ledge hindering much progress, while the bloodied snout of the beast snarls at you from the cave. It scratches at the wall as if to burrow through the ice, but its claws find little purchase. Frantically, it tests the ledge with a massive paw and digs its other claws into the wall, hoping to scale the side. You’re so close to the other ledge.

 

The beast tests its weight and the ice cracks underneath, but it persists, bringing its foot around to rest on the ledge. The ice wall crumbles around its claw and it snarls viciously at you, before the siding breaks apart and it begins to lose its footing. Howling, it hurdles off the cliff, a screaming mass of claws and fur, leaving the ice ledge to crumble in its wake. It splits beneath your feet and you begin to slide. Kylo yanks you the rest of the way with a yell, practically tossing you as the ice falls away under your footing. He falls back into the snow with you, and you both pant breathlessly.

 

You take a moment to regain your strength, the snow that seeped into your back a cruel reminder that you were not yet safe. With a groan, you sit up, expecting Kylo to do the same and give an order.

 

However, he lays motionless in the snow, sprawled flat on his back.

 

“Kylo?!” you call, weakly crawling over.

 

He’s unconscious, and you brush a bit of snow from his brushed nose, a fresh, shallow cut running across his chin.

 

“Kylo!” you call again, cupping his cheek and shaking him. He is unresponsive.

 

You look around frantically, not knowing what you hope to find. You don’t know what to do, you don’t know where to go. You listen for a moment, to the wind howling, felt the snow that bit your face, trembled against the icy chill. Already, you were shivering from the cold, your mouth and throat dry.

 

“Shelter,” you croak, not speaking to anyone in particular. You look over the hill, and down at Kylo. He’s breathing lightly and would hopefully wake up soon. You move behind his shoulders and lace your arms under them, curling your arms to move him. You’re still weak, so it takes a tremendous amount of effort to move his heavy body a few inches through the snow. With every effort, you grunt loudly, and it’s not 4 feet later that you’re panting and coughing.

 

            Your fingers are numb, and his skin feels just as icy as yours, as you drag him up the hill. As you reach the top, you pause, thinking you can roll him down without major injury, and look across the valley.

 

“Oh, moons above!” you cry deliriously, not expecting the little igloo village a quarter-mile away, lit with small orange lights. You yearned for that warmth, especially now that it looked like the sun aimed to set within the next hour. With greater effort, you pulled Kylo along, sliding down the hill and adjusting at the bottom.

 

“Help! Somebody, please!” you called, but the wind whipped it back into your face. You kept calling until you were hoarse, coughing and spitting snow.

 

“Curse it all-Oh, curse it all! Brefarlius, of all places!” you look down at Kylo’s unconscious body.

 

“What a honeymoon this is. Nobody goes to Brefarlius, _this is why_. I can’t believe you. **HhhhREAGH**. It’s downright cruel, and callous and you know it. **HhhhREAGH**. Phew, if we ever get to live through this, and aren’t eaten by natives, I’m going to beat you back into death! **HHHHREAGH**. I’ll make good on my promise, too- oh moons above _its cold_! **HHHHREAGH**. They’ll probably eat you first, anyways. You’re nothing but muscle, and I’m sure they can appreciate your bitterness. **HHHRUGH** ,” You gasp out threats.

 

The journey is slow going, and every time you drag Kylo through the snow, you tire a bit more. Every sudden howl of icy wind saps your strength just a bit more. Soon, you are exhausted again, barely holding onto Kylo as you edge towards the village. The sun has sunk much lower and the village seems so close. You can’t see anyone outside but if you can just make it to the closest hut, a long rectangular home looking out from behind a snow dune, you can crawl for help.

 

Your legs slip out from underneath you and you realize you can’t feel your toes. Kylo could be dead at this point, lying over your legs, lips turning a deep blue. Your mind is turning to ice as well, and you gaze over to the village, panting.

 

A small, furry creature steps out from the closest home, waddling over to the side of the house where some clumps of wood lay in a pile. You try your voice but fail to sound anything. Coughing, you try again, uselessly tugging on Kylo’s body, and your voice makes a sound. Again, and again, you call out, gaining strength with each attempt. The animal gathers its wood before perking up a doggish ear and faces your direction. You wave a hand weakly and it startles, dropping its fire supply. It rushes back inside and your stomach drops, assuming it to have fled. Just as soon, it returns outside with two other creatures with similar characteristics, honking their short trunks as they run out into the snow.

 

They reach you, and they are quite short and stout, covered in thick wooly fur and dressed in patterned ponchos. They’re large, owlish eyes take you in with concern, and reach down with tubby fingers to help you with Kylo. The larger two take Kylo from you, and drag him with unexpected strength, while the for feminine one gently helps you along. All you can do is crawl, but you all make it back into the very small, rectangular igloo.

 

 The inside is heavenly, warm enough to sting and the inside is made from petrified wood, decorated with colorful pillows and a large fire pit in the center. The creatures are all communicating in some strange language, placing Kylo by the fire and throwing a heavy, woven throw over his body. You weakly settle next to him, resting on some warm pillows as the smaller creature scuttles about a table in the far corner and mixes something intensely. You lay back in the warmth, unable to hold your weak body up any longer, and your eyes close in sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kylo came to our rescue quite a few times, didn't he? ;) Now it's time the pretty princess rescued her "charming" prince. Tell me your thoughts on the action scenes, or how you feel about the world-building I'm doing. Feedback will always help me improve :)
> 
> A.) I love the subtle tender moments that are starting to seep in. I wonder if they'll continue once the two are out of danger?  
> B.) Action scenes had me on edge, the pacing was good  
> C.) I didn't mind the action scenes, but would rather there be more romance than action.  
> D.) The world-building is very immersive and I think your characters and creatures are very creative!  
> E.) The world-building could use work and I think so because...?  
> F.) Where was all the bickering? Bring back the bickering!


	4. A Glimpse

   You wake to the small creature from the night before standing over you, holding a wooden bowl. She grunts at you to sit up and you try, finding your muscles to be stiff and weak. With a groan, you set yourself against the wall of the hut, surrounded by scratchy pillows. The creature snorts again and puts the bowl in your hands. The hot liquid inside is a warm gray with white chunks of meat and pale vegetables. She waves a tubby paw at you, before shuffling off to other parts of the hut. You notice Kylo is awake beside you, leaned against the wall as you are, sipping from his own bowl. He meets your eye for a moment but ignores you. You’re used to it.

 

   Looking down into your bowl suspiciously, you raise it to your lips tentatively and take a sip. The bitterness curls your nose and is followed by a spicy sweetness. The texture is rather creamy. Your stomach gurgles for more, and you fight through the initial flavor. The food warms your belly and you wonder if ingredients were in short supply for these people. You decide to be grateful. As you sip, you notice Kylo’s ankle has been treated. His boot had been removed and wraps compress the swelling joint.

 

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pausing your meal.

 

“I’ll be fine,” he replies gruffly, swirling his own soup.

 

   You’re satisfied with the answer and return to your meal. You slurp for a minute in silence.

 

“Why do you ask?” Kylo suddenly speaks up.

 

   His question is curious to you and you consider it for a moment.

 

“Common courtesy?” you reply, giving him a curious look. He doesn’t meet it, instead looking into his dish sullenly.

 

“Common courtesy…” he repeats. “It was common courtesy to drag me through the snow to this village?”

 

   You squint and roll your eyes with a sigh.

 

“Does that upset you?” you drone, amazed he could be annoyed with your rescue.

 

“You could’ve just left me, but you didn’t. You despise me, so why help me?” he asks calmly.

 

   He seems honest, and you study him curiously. His face shows no emotion, but his mind looks busy, and he plays with his food absently. He looks to you for an answer.

 

“Why,” he repeats.

 

“Why wouldn’t I?” you snort, “I couldn’t just leave you there.” It wasn’t hard to understand, you’d both been in a situation where death loomed. He had saved you more times than you had him, come to think of it. He defended you from the cave beast, kept you going through the tunnels, and kept you from freezing on the cavern floor.

 

“You would’ve been free from me, had I died. Free from us,” he pressed.

 

   You hadn’t thought of that, and turn your head from him, towards the fireplace in center of the huts floor. You take a deep sigh through your nose, pressing your lips together.

 

   Truly, a missed opportunity, you think, and immediately scold yourself.

 

“All life is precious,” you finally reply, rubbing your thumb against the wooden bowl. “Even if it’s you. Even if you’ve taken us to this wretched planet for a honeymoon.”

 

“Please, you can’t believe I’d take you on honeymoon,” he grunts.

 

   You bristle. “You’re right. How foolish I was to believe you’d offer me basic kindness.”

 

“I offered you kindness once, and you spat it in my face. I read your letter, you know. Found it in my pocket this morning.”

 

   You avoid his gaze, holding your chin high, embarrassed by the confrontation.

 

“Well, I meant every word,” you admit boldly.

 

   He grimaces at you, then sighs, turning to look at the fire with you.

 

“We might’ve been happy,” he says, “I certainly thought it’d be easier. So, I sent gifts, and sweet words, and you deny me and my kindness.”

 

“And why do you think that is?” you sneer.

 

“Because you’re crazy and like when 187 men grovel for your approval, and it makes you feel powerful in an otherwise boring life,” he spits, turning his head to send you a dangerous look.

 

   You scoff at the notion and curl your lip at him. “You don’t understand anything. You’re just like all the rest.”

 

“What does that even mean?” he retorts. “Help me to understand.”

 

   You squint at him defensively. You turn and lean your head against the other wall. The hut feels claustrophobic, only as wide as a king size bed and twice as long, the wooden floors covered with leather mats. You and Kylo are stuffed inside, forced into terribly close proximity. The warmth helps to dissipate the coldness between you two.

 

   You sit in frustrated silence and are startled by a strange feeling in your skull. You gasp and feel something slithering through your conscious and you notice Kylo’s hand poised by your ear.

 

“Ah! Quit it!” you cry, slapping his hand away.

 

   You raise a hand to rub your temple, trying to dislodge the unsettling feeling, giving him a scolding look.

 

“Tell me, or I’ll do it again,” he demands.

 

“What were you even doing?” you sneer, goosebumps on your skin.

 

“Probing your mind,” he explains simply, “now tell me.”

 

   You release an exasperated noise, turning your gaze from him, searching for a way out. You’ve explained it a few times before, to others who were sympathetic yet dismissive. Kylo would be no better. But the fresh memory of him searching your mind brings a shiver across your skin, and you decide to comply. You sigh and bite your cheek, finding your words.

 

“When I was growing up,” you say softly, “my parents and grandparents would tell me stories about how they fell in love. I was fascinated. My parents love each other very much, and I myself dreamed of a married life for a long time. So, when I came of age, I had hope I’d find someone young and handsome, and kind.”

 

   You scowl. “But I didn’t. The first man that proposed to me was some king from a few galaxies over. He was old and had no children. I knew what he wanted. He was rich and highly respected, and the people in my system took it to heart that I refused him. But how was I supposed to devote myself to someone I didn’t even know? This man wanted a lineage, not a marriage, and I wasn’t about to agree.”

 

“He could’ve helped your kingdom grow,” Kylo reasoned, and you made a face.

 

“My kingdom has never been concerned with growth. That is why it resides over a single planet and its moons. This man obviously had no knowledge of our culture. He had nothing to offer me but his power.”

 

“And power isn’t attractive?” he asked, raising a brow.

 

“Not when it’s used to conquer and step on others. It’s so often used as an excuse to cause suffering,” you mourn, fidgeting your fingers. You don’t catch Kylo’s thoughtful expression.

 

“But anyways,” you sigh, “after that, some our citizens began to send fake proposals, mocking me, and cursing my name for being prudent. I suppose it spread through the merchants to other planets and then other systems, to other galaxies and beyond. Soon, I was receiving proposals from planets I’d never heard of, people who’d only just caught my name. Most were princes, and yes, they were young and handsome, and perhaps they were kind. But to send a proposal to someone you don’t know, based on a passed down description, is just too shallow to even consider!”

 

“It would have been easier to take a chance. I’m sure at least one of them was tempting,” Kylo says, and you nod with a wistful smile.

 

“My mother said that too. But you can’t know everything about a person from a letter, a few sweet words, followed by a request for my eternal devotion and unfading love. Someone can be kind one minute and then… and then, you find out they’re a suicide bomber with a vengeance, or something. People can be unusually kind when they have an agenda.” Your lip curls and you pour your cold soup into the crackling fire.

 

“I held out for a long time, waiting for someone to actually be interested in more than just ‘The Rich Princess from Lunzar’. So, yes, when you showed up and stomped on my hopes for ever finding love and happiness, I despised you. I hated you and scorned your name. I prayed you’d fall on your saber or choke on your spit in your sleep and asphyxiate,” you snarled, gritting your teeth.

 

“Quite the imagination,” Kylo mocked, and you shrug.

 

“You’re my muse, what can I say?”

 

   Kylo chuffs, and you’re both quiet, but then you add a final thought.

 

“I hope you understand now how you’ve cursed me. You’ve never been kind to me. No jeweled bird or ring box can make up for the cruelness you’ve afflicted on me.”

 

“Should I feel sorry for you?” he asks, passively reaching down to his ankle to squeeze around the bandages.

 

“I’m not entitled to your pity, no,” you answer, watching him wince.

 

   He attempts to roll his ankle, but it’s too stiff to have much movement. He leans back against the hut wall with a deep sigh.

 

   You bring your legs up to your chest. “Can you walk?” you ask.

 

“I’ll be fine as soon as we’re found,” he replies.

 

“And how long will that be?”

 

“I’m sure it won’t be too long. We just have to hold out. The main transporter will comb for life and search this village.”

 

   One of the creatures emerges from the other room, shuffling towards the door. This one grunts gruffly in your direction, waddling to grab a knitted hat from the small, wood table in the opposite corner. It tugs the cap over its long and furry ears, and grabs a fishing pole leaning against the wall. As it leaves through the front door, you feel the chill of the outside crawl over your skin and you shiver.

 

   Your clothes are in terrible shape. Your boots are battered and the laces are fraying, along with a few of the seams in your bodysuit. There are tears in the fabric on your elbows and a small hole under your ribs. One of the pockets on your snow pants has been torn off, leaving loose strings and a wide rip. You adjust the high waist  and notice your knuckles are covered in dark bruises, your nails sporting cracks.

 

“I hope the First Order is kind to these people. I didn’t even know Brefarlius had life,” you say, checking your body for more injuries.

 

“It usually doesn’t. Most get eaten by this village,” Kylo explains.

 

   You pale and whip your head towards him, a look of pure terror across your face.

 

   He glances over, and his lip curls into a small smile. “You’re wonderfully gullible,” he says.

 

   You gasp and scowl at him. “You brute!” you cry, and he chuckles.

 

   You begin to scold him, threatening to throw him outside. He bickers with you, easily keeping up until a ship lands outside.

 

* * *

 

 

   When you and Kylo arrive back on the ship, you’re both immediately transported to the sick bay to be checked over. You welcome the thick blankets the medics drape around your shoulders, talking spastically amongst themselves and taking vitals. They ask you many questions and you struggle to keep up with the pace at which they throw them at you. They salve your scrapes and squeeze your limbs, poking and prodding for injury. You notice Kylo is attended by only a few medics who ask quietly, and do not touch him. You wonder if they’re afraid to, and one of the medics lead Kylo off to another room.

 

   You wince as a medic presses against a sensitive muscle. “It’s truly amazing you are not in worse shape, Your Highness,” they comment, checking the movement of your ankle.

 

“I was going to say the same thing! You’ve survived an explosion, a deadly fall, hypothermia, cave predators, it’s a miracle that you haven’t even lost a toe!” jokes another, writing down information.

 

“Well, I do count myself lucky,” you say, giving a sheepish grin.

 

   After your check-up, they draw blood for testing and send you off. You’re not sure where to go next, exactly, and your stomach growls a suggestion. You don’t remember the way to the mess hall but have an inkling you can find your room. A thought reminds you that it’s now yours and Kylo’s room, and you are unsettled. You wonder briefly what they’re testing him for, seeing as you were released first.

 

   Too hungry to care much more, you make your way through the winding halls. You have a general sense of where to go, strangely enough. You do not find a cafeteria on your way but easily find your room. Chalking it up to spontaneous memory, you enter the bedroom you share with Kylo. Upon entering, you notice a large pile of presents stacked and scattered around the white coffee table. No doubt, they are your wedding gifts, wrapped in extravagant paper and decorated with bows and jewels.

 

   Instead, you use the panel by the door to order some food, finding trouble again. You manage to send a request with maximum frustration and wait for your order on the couch with the presents. A pretty gold one with a tulle bow catches your eye, and you unwrap it with curiosity. It’s from your great uncle, and he sent you and Kylo matching golden brooches sporting the symbol of the The First Order. You roll your eyes and continue to tear apart wrapping paper.

 

   A distant cousin sent you earrings, while your aunts collaborated on a turquoise silk gown for your honeymoon. While the gifts are lovely, the letters sent with are laden with hidden apologies, wishing you good luck and “patience”, hoping your marriage turns out happy. You know they’re only trying to be supportive and you’re thankful for the kind wishes.

 

   You pull a rather simple present into your lap. It’s small, wrapped in gray paper and a silk bow and looks battered on the corners. You search for a name tag but find none. With your brow dented, you slid the silk ribbon off and tear away the scratchy paper, lifting the lid to peer inside. Resting on a linen pillow is a chunky silver ring, held down with fabric strings, beside it is a scroll held together by a red wax seal. Pulling the ring out of the box, you stare at it curiously. The round, decorated seal holds a flat, blue jewel swirled with silver. It isn’t something you’d wear but the jewel looks split down the middle and there is a small nub that sits on a track path. Pushing it, the blue jewel splits apart and you gasp, feeling the ring burn in your grasp.

 

   The symbol of the resistance sits proud and shiny, the red and white colors glimmering. You’re speechless, wondering how the resistance could have gotten this to you, if you might be punished… Going for the scroll, you timidly peel the wax off and unfurl the note.

 

‘Hope is like the sun. If you only believe in it when you can see it, you’ll never make it through the night.’

 

   You contemplate the meaning, mouth ajar. The Resistance was getting involved. Were they going to rescue you? Was it only condolences? You weren’t sure if you’d want to get involved in the war between the Resistance and The First Order. Betraying Kylo might incur his wrath on your home planet, and after what happened to the Republic, you should be afraid for your family. Still, the idea that you had someone with those kind of connections, bolstering you up with hope, it almost felt like a chance.

 

   The sound of the bathroom door opening startled you, but even more so did Kylo’s half naked form stepping out, body and hair damp as steam poured out from behind him. He paused as he caught you on the couch, toothbrush paused in his mouth, a towel draped over his head. You couldn’t avoid sweeping your eyes over his wide frame, his strong shoulders, his rippling abdomen, his lean hips barely hid under a loose pair of black briefs, stemming down into powerful legs. You gulp, bringing your gaze as quickly as you could back to his dark eyes. His gaze darts away and he pulls the waistband of his underwear up a little higher as he walks to the closet, toothbrush resuming its scrubbing.

 

   Heat floods your face, and you quickly shove the Resistance ring and note back into its box and stash it under the coffee table. You begin to fidget with your fingers, heart pounding in shame. You didn’t expect him to be here at all, let alone to catch him after bathing. Luckily, he decided to speak first.

 

“You ought to clean up,” he says, searching for clothes in his drawers.

 

   You twinge for a fraction of a second but understand his meaning. A hot shower would do you wonders, your muscles ached for it. But you’d rather him not see you so undressed, it would embarrass you into a fit. You realize you’d be in a different room, but you have no confidence he wouldn’t take advantage of that situation. Apprehensively, you stand and collect things from your luggage, casting a sideways glance at Kylo pulling a clean grey tee over his body and tucking the hem into his black pants.

 

   You rush to the refresher before another blush can creep up your neck. The water does feel heavenly on your skin and you let out a pleasured hum. Taking liberty with the soaps available, you scrub the sweat off your skin and the cold from your bones. Your body smells like a man now, the sweetness and spice of the soap rather pleasant and different from your usually flowery scent. Bending your soapy scalp back into the water, you figure that Kylo must smell like this too. The lock on the door helped you feel safer, but you didn’t know the extent of Kylo’s force abilities. You shiver, imagining him pulling open the textured glass door and pressing himself against your wet body. He would be strong enough to do anything he wanted to you.

 

You turn the water freezing and stick your face under the stream until you’re shivering again.

 

   Dressing in your silk pajamas and sweeping your wet hair from your face, you step out of the refresher and sigh. You notice Kylo doing sit-ups in the middle of the room and step back to your spot on the couch. You don’t notice Kylo pausing to watch you lift the thin strap of your top back onto your bare shoulder again. He takes a deep breath and puts on a stoic face once more, grunting into his next set.

 

 You suppose that there’s nothing else to do besides unwrap presents but dinner arrives as you begin your work.

 

“Commander, Princess, dinner has arrived. Please forgive the delay but it shows in the presentation,” says the server, rolling in a cart full of food and dinnerware.

 

“Oh, thank goodness, I’m famished!” you titter, the servers’ presence is a welcome break to the tense atmosphere, and you help him clear the coffee table to eat at. With a flourish, he presents your dinner, laying your dish in front of you with a space dedicated to Kylo. He pours a white wine into your glass and leaves you with the bottle, you decide you like it after a taste. Kylo joins you shortly after the server leaves, and you glance over the rim of your glass to see he hasn’t broken a sweat.

 

The awkwardness returns and the sound of forks clicking against plates is all that is heard. The heaviness of it all is suffocating you and you take a long bitter drink from your wine.

 

“Careful now,” he chides, and you slide him a look.

 

“I don’t have a drinking issue,” you defend stiffly, setting down your glass.

 

“Not yet,” he grunts, taking a forkful of chicken into his mouth.

 

You stress your brow at him, pouting.

 

“You might cause a development,” you pout, pushing around your food.

 

He snarks at that. “If anything, it’s the other way around.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“It seems you bring nothing but trouble. I hope I don’t have to defend you from ice beasts often.”

 

“I hope you don’t bring me to deserted ice planets often,” you sniff, taking another sip from your glass.

 

“Perhaps that would be best,” he agrees, looking down into his plate.

 

   You wonder if you’ll get to go anywhere. Logically, you should be able to travel anywhere you wish, probably surrounded by stormtroopers, but he couldn’t keep you locked up. You were married, yes, but you weren’t a servant or a slave. You would exercise your right to freedom. Besides, the First Order only needed your crystal pearls, not your body.

 

   Your skin prickles at the thought of being used in an intimate way, making little dark haired sith babies. You shake off the notion. There was no need to fear something that couldn’t happen. Besides, you’d be a poor choice for strong force users.

 

“This ship is on the way to Askabar,” Kylo mentions, breaking the silence. “After that, we head back to the Conqueror.”

 

You figure he is telling you out of courtesy. “Alright,” you acknowledge, pushing around your food.

 

   He’s quiet, scooping up food with his fork and letting it fall off, repeating the action. After a moment, you notice it as a nervous action. You pause and watch him. “However,” he starts again, before clenching his jaw. His hand tightens around his utensil, before he seems to compose himself, sighing and placing his plate on the coffee table.

 

You worry at what he might say. Would he send you away? Was Askabar another dangerous ice planet? Why was he acting so upset?

 

“One of our guests invited us to Ghyuinen for treatment at the hot springs, and it isn’t too far out of the way. We would be trading and gathering supplies, as well,” he finishes, finally looking at you.

 

   You stare back, blinking owlishly. Ghyuinen was home to the Emperor and Empress Ghyuin, long time family friends and trading partners. You hadn’t seen Gygy and Teosu since your Coming-of-Age celebration as a teenager, and they hadn’t been able to make the journey to your wedding. It was also rumored they were involved with the rebels, but you don’t think Kylo would know of this. Something else concerns you, though.

 

“You went through my gifts?” you pale, thinking back to the grey box sitting under the coffee table.

 

Kylo gives you a look. “I was certain they were _ours_ , as a couple, but yes, I opened one at least,” he admits.

 

You try to contain a sigh of relief. You’re not sure how he would react to the rebels contacting you.

 

“But either way, I thought it would do us some good to visit. I’m sure you need to recover from our adventure in Brefarlius,” he says, standing to walk to the closet.

 

You’re sore, but medically sound and you bite back a rebuttal.

 

“Then why are you going? You seem fine,” you ask, turning over your shoulder to watch him over the couch.

 

   His mouth purses at the comment as he pulls a padded gambeson out to wear. “Because, it was an offer for our honeymoon. We should both attend,” he mumbles, pulling the jacket over his body and aggressively straightening the fabric to button it.

 

“And I’d be an idiot to leave you alone with a rebel alliance.”

 

You pale.

 

He finds his saber and makes for the door, you watch him go quietly, fear in your heart for the Empress and Emperor. He stops before the door and looks at you over his shoulder.

 

“Know that this isn’t for you. There have been rumors of their support for the rebels and they’ve been crafty enough to avoid blatant association. But we’re going to find out the truth, and this visit is nothing more,” he adds. He’s gone with a flourish, leaving you to wonder about the safety of your family’s friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience, this story definitely doesn't have a regular update schedule. I really had to get creative with this chapter in order to make it interesting, it was really a drag to get through. I hadn't planned anything exciting to write about, but ohhhh this next week at Ghyuinen... I'm considering changing this works rating ;) As always, constructive criticism is welcome, I will never get angry at a comment or suggestion, because I know it comes from a place of support :) tell me what you'd like to see happen next or select a general suggestion below! I'm also going to try and work on symbolism more, to maybe add some dramatic irony. 
> 
> A.) I want kissies from Kylo <3  
> B.) More angst would really add to the dynamic. ie- talking about feelings, confused pinning, mutual but unrequited love, betrayal  
> C.) It's time to change that rating to "Explicit"!  
> D.) If what I think is happening is happening... it better not be  
> E.) I think the dynamic is balanced currently and wouldn't like a change in pace


	5. Ghyinen

Through your journey, you find yourself worrying more than you should. Of course, you were excited to see the Emperor and Empress, you had many fond memories of them as a child when they visited your planet. The Emperor always brought extravagant toys and the Empress pampered you with affection, with your mother smiling and warning not to spoil you. They had been close friends with your grandparents, though with their species, they were only about middle-aged now that you were grown. Their many children had spread to rule over the planets in the system, while they waited to retire from the main royal capital of Ghyuin. You’ve never visited, but Emperor Teosu had brought you beautiful scrolls with stories and landscapes of the countryside.

 

The rumors worried you and you hoped they weren’t true, for the safety of your friends. Perhaps their involvement was only minor and not a true offense against the Order. You busied yourself with distractions by integrating your things into the closet, decorating the bland room with your gifts, and shuffling curiously through the bookshelf. The histories about the Jedi and the Sith turned out to be informative but not very entertaining, however, you welcomed your new knowledge. The book about lightsabers interested you more, as it involved a lengthy chapter about Kyber crystals.

 

The book explained that the crystals had a sort of ethereal, complex conscience and reached out to those close to the light side. They were almost alive, communicating with each other, using unspoken emotion, and responding to life. It fascinated you that a complex mineral deposit could hold so much intelligence, and yet you doubted the plausibility of it all. If the crystal had no form of language, how could it communicate its will or its emotions?

 

You decided you’d have to research this further and perhaps grab a deeper understanding.

 

You almost dared a peek back into the raunchy novel you’d found on Kylo’s shelf earlier but feared your mortification should he happen upon you reading it. Granted, he wasn’t around at all to keep an eye on you. You’d slip into the cotton covers of the bed and would wake to find he’d mercifully taken the couch while you’d slept. As soon as you’d ordered breakfast, he’d be out the door without a single look your way. You assumed he went training, because he’d come back late at night sweaty and you could feel the rage radiating from him. Once or twice, you’d felt him coming down the hall, his dark aura alerting you to steer clear of his usual path to the refresher.

 

Every day, he seemed to get angrier, more slighted at your presence and it did scare you. You doubted he’d hurt you but kept a distance and avoided interaction. Maybe a week in a relaxing hot spring spa would do more good to his psyche than his body.

 

The ship had no way of telling time, what with the lack of a sun orbit, but it felt like four very long days until you finally made it to Ghyuinen. You were excited to pack your bags onto the transporter, though you had trouble as Livo had usually done your packing for you. You dressed in a pastel aqua gown with ruffled cap sleeves that descended in a “v” to your waist. The organza then fluted down in gentle folds, the bottom hem embroidered with a bright silver thread. Your feet were clad in silver slippers and you were glad to step onto the transporter and seat yourself in the lounge area on the top deck. Resting your elbows on the dark wood table, you set your gaze outside the window, onto the flight deck where employees fiddle with electric work and officers make speeches to their small band of troopers. You’re restless for takeoff, listening to the pilots in the cockpit go through their checklists and the occasional noise of the aircraft.

 

Kylo decides not to take the leather seat opposite of the table, choosing the other side of the cabin where he stares out his own window. You pay him no mind, as he completely dismisses your presence. You’re not sure what you’ve done to warner his absolute hatred. You both seemed _almost_ civil on Brefarlius or at least not so hostile. Perhaps he was putting on a scary face around his peers and inferiors. Perhaps this trip would help him loosen up a bit.

 

You looked over your shoulder at Kylo.

 

What would you gain if he did? A moment of peace? That was easy enough, you just had to keep your distance and dive into your distractions. You suppose you could learn about who he was but truly you had no desire to be closer to him.

 

_‘Still…’_ you turn away and sigh. _‘It’s terribly awkward to be around him without anything to talk about. We haven’t spoken in days, either.’_

 

You let it be and focus on socializing with the people of the palace.

 

Soon enough, the transporter begins its journey and immediately you can see the planet of Ghyuinen from your window. You lean forward with fascination, nose close to the glass as the ship sails toward the planet. It looks like most living planets, with green continents and pretty, blue oceans. There are less clouds than your planet, but a small cyclone in swirling in the lowest ocean, far away from the other continents. You take in every detail as you breach the atmosphere and descend through the clouds to what looks to be a thriving capital.

 

The transporter slows as it gains toward the surface of the planet and lands in front of an enormous palace of golden pagoda’s. A tall, bright red, brick wall surrounds the palace and guards walk along the top behind golden balustrades. Two beautifully painted murals sit on either side of the great golden gate, an ivory dragon on one side and a charcoal peacock with a fiery tail on the other. They both bow before the gate, heads low and respectful.

 

You exit quickly, and the air is cool and crisp and smells sweet. You look up in awe at the golden towers, the palace that could be considered another home to you. There are two pagodas just behind the gate, obviously meant as watch towers, and further in are the tops of four large towers, surrounding an even taller pagoda that extends toward the sun with a decorated spire and a long golden flag. Each edge of the roof is intricately carved gold and large ruby lanterns dangle from the edge. You can hear gentle noise from the city behind you.

 

A man that was standing by the half open gate now approaches and he bows deeply. His robes are a warm grey with a decorative olive sash around his waist and his long dark hair is pinned away from his face.

 

“Princess, the Emperor and Empress are overjoyed to have you as a guest. The capital rejoices in your safe arrival,” he says, before straightening, hands folded over each other.

 

 His face is long and thin, and his skin is bright and light. He has a long thin nose and bright amber fox eyes lined darkly, and the natural markings are extended on the inner and outer corners to enhance the dramatic almond shape. The tips of his ears come to a point. His dark brows are high and dramatically arched, but his looks are very common for a Ghyuinen inhabitant.

 

“It’s good to finally visit. The capital is extraordinary,” you compliment, and he gives a short bow in thanks.

 

“The ancestors thank you for your praise. We will have servants bring your luggage in. In the meantime, the Empress insists on your immediate audience,” he informs then offers his upturned hand. He must notice Kylo coming up behind you, because he stops and bows deeply again.

 

“Ah, Commander Kylo Ren, the capital rejoices in-”

 

“I’d like to retire for the night, show me to my room and bring my dinner there,” Kylo demands gruffly before striding past and towards the gate.

 

The servant looks shocked and blinks, watching Kylo waltz his way straight towards the palace. Embarrassed, you quickly speak up for him.

 

“Forgive him, he hasn’t been taught the proper etiquette for Ghyuin,” you smile bitterly. He hasn’t been taught any etiquette at all, in all honesty.

 

The servant nods. “Through your grace, he is forgiven. Let us hurry after him, I will have someone lead you to the throne room,” he says. Again, he offers his upturned palm and you place yours on top delicately.

 

Quickly, you two follow after Kylo and the inside courtyard amazes you. The large area is surrounded by stone walls which are shaded patio areas on top, the roof supported by grand red and gold pillars. Nobles talk under the shade and overlook the beautifully landscaped courtyard. A long pathway extends from the gate to the golden steps of the palace and is bordered by two ponds, which hold colorful koi and smooth stone for them to hide by. Stone lion heads on the opposite walls pour waterfalls from their mouths into the koi ponds. In the middle of the stone pathway is a large statue of the white dragon and the black phoenix swirling around each other, not fighting but peaceful.

 

The servant leads you up the stairs with Kylo and into the palace, where he signals another servant nearby. Kylo is lead away and the new servant leads you towards the throne room. She stops outside two large golden doors, guarded by Ghyuinen soldiers in heavy armor. You can hear the gentle hum of a mandolin and a flute playing inside. The guards push open the doors and you enter, smiling at the figures of the Emperor and Empress.

 

They both gleam back at you, looking regal in their intricate robes and jewelry.

 

“My sweet dulcet orchid!” Empress Gygy coos, spreading her arms wide for a hug, the long sleeves of her bright silk dress fluttering elegantly.

 

You smile and stride to her, wrapping your arms around her as she sweeps you into a delicate embrace. “It’s been too long, Your Majesty,” you grin, your heart soaring in her familiar arms.

 

She agrees joyfully and releases you to allow Emperor Teosu an embrace. He smiles warmly at you. “Our little lily, so good to see you,” he says, patting your back as you hug him. Before you say anything else, you bow to each of them and kiss the rings on their pinkies.

 

“I missed you both too much,” you smile.

 

“Oh, little lily, we’ve prayed to ancestors every night that you would come to us,” the Empress sighs happily.

 

“Especially after what’s happened. We are so regretful that we could not attend your wedding,” the Emperor mourns.

 

You roll your eyes playfully. “I wouldn’t worry, it wasn’t much of a celebration.”

 

The Empress titters. “Ha! We can’t hear the end of its grandeur! But you understand with our political issue at the time and we’d have hated to see you so unhappy.”

 

“Where is the brute anyhow?” the Emperor muses, looking up at the doors with disdain.

 

“Ohhh, he’s decided to retire,” you sigh, quirking your lip is disdain.

 

They both scoff in unison.

 

“How absurd!”

 

“How rude!”

 

Empress Gygy laid a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t you worry, my dear. This trip is for you anyhow. I have a schedule laid out in the spas that will bring you into total peace and serenity. In fact, I had masseuses prepared for your arrival all morning, if you’re available.”

 

“That would heavenly, Your Majesty. I’d very much enjoy that,” you grin, and you and the Empress begin a day of total relaxation.

 

LINE

 

Kylo sighed as the thick wooden door of his room closed behind him, the annoying servant finally leaving him be. He had been going on about mealtimes, how to ask for someone, how to leave for the marketplace, all things Kylo was capable of without a supervisor. Immediately, he was regretting his decision to allow the princess to visit this world. Everything around him grated on his being, in the way that it was all so peaceful. Anger was where he got his power, how he focused on the force and if this place took that from him, he’d be powerless against any possible hidden rebels.

 

He had anticipated this, however, and had spent the last few days training, building his rage and physical strength. After returning to the cruiser, he felt like he was slipping in Snoke’s teachings. He had to trust his rage, use this woman as a force of frustration to build his power from, to prove to Snoke that he was not falling from the dark side.

 

It was proving to be more difficult than he’d anticipated.

 

Of course, she was frustrating and grated on his patience whenever she pleased, but he indulged in her beauty far too often. Her sleeping face back at the village, bruised and scraped up but still peaceful and gentle. The way she pouted when he annoyed her. How she could look elegant wherever she lounged, whether it be sprawled out on the bed or curled up on the couch. She orientated herself as if she were being painted. And she cared for him.

 

Kylo grimaced, yanking off his gloves and over jacket.

 

_Not that again. It was an ignorant, fleeting thought._

 

He had entertained the idea during their isolation on Brefarlius but passed it off as ignorance on her part instead of affection. ‘Common courtesy’ she’d said. Yet the thought lingered, like a disease in his mind. He looked for more, waited for her to approach him, waited for the flirtation. Surely, if she felt anything, she’d make her feelings known. Not that he’d reciprocate, of course. Maybe it would have been fun to cruelly deny her. He imagined her gripping at his collar, eyes wild and desperate.

 

_“Kylo, can’t you love me?” she’d plea, eyes brimming with tears, lip trembling._

 

He’d coolly pry her off him, looking down into her sad eyes.

 

_“No, you’re annoying,”_ he’d say, and she’d collapse into a sobbing mess on the ground, while he left her behind without looking back.

 

That much was funny to him, and it helped him regain the reasons he despised her. He could get used to her innocent beauty. When she was annoying and bitter, he could make up awful things about her, convince himself she was more terrible than she truly was. He would be free from wondering if she’d join him on the couch for a night, laying herself sleepily on his chest and saying-

 

_“Allow me this, Kylo. Let’s pretend we’re in love”_

 

With a yell of frustration, he threw his coat against the ground as he felt his heart clench, kicking it angrily across the room. He betrayed even himself and it wasn’t even anger that he could take advantage of. Every time he attempted to escape this trap, it pulled him in a little deeper. He couldn’t fail Snoke. He had to prove himself. He was Master of the Knights of Ren, Commander of the First Order, grandson of Darth Vader!

 

He couldn’t spare here, it was doubtful they had training rooms or anyone to spare with. He pulled his shirt over his head and kicked off his boots and socks. Falling to the floor, he started to do deep pushups until his shoulders screamed and he panted heavily.

 

_The princess is spineless and weak._

_The princess is cold and two-faced. She treats her inferiors with respect and her superiors with cruelty._

_The princess has no connection to the force and is a weak, pathetic excuse of a wife._

_The princess wears silken pajamas to bed._

 

His stomach flips at the memory of her pulling that delicate strap back onto her shoulder and he falls to the floor, smacking his forehead against the intricate tiles until his brain throbbed, before lifting his hands to his face and screaming in rage.

 

LINE

 

You’d never been so relaxed. You started off your day with an amazing massage and talked about old memories with the Empress. Afterwards, you’d joined her in the hot springs where you met Prince Heikan’s pregnant wife, Princess Yuli. She raved about her marriage with the wily prince, who’d been like an older cousin to you, and all the adventures and funny stories they’d had in the last few years. She was incredibly witty, and you thought they made a good match. Afterwards, you all broke for an afternoon snack and they sent you off for facials, nail care, hair treatments, and relaxation. At the end of it all, you were exhausted and beginning to work up an appetite.

 

You’d been sent to the Empresses beautician after your treatments and she laughed with you about random things will she combed and styled your hair, allowing you to change into a more customary style of dress for dinner. You dressed in a long-sleeved lace blouse that hugged your figure and a silk, high waisted skirt with a heron among lotus flowers painted on the fabric. A sash with matching fabric was tied in a bow around your waist to hold up the skirt.

 

 A servant retrieved you for dinner and you walked with them into a great dining hall, a room painted in gold with large pillars lining the walls where expensive, intricate vases, jade sculptures and dazzling art pieces sat in carved out pedestals. The Emperor and Empress sat at the far end of the gold, low table surrounded in red silk pillows. Yuli sat with her husband to the right of them, and past them were advisors and a few members of the royal court. A space to the left was unoccupied for you and Kylo, though the commander was absent. You were greeted by the others as you take your spot and begin to catch up with Heikan, who you haven’t seen in ages.

 

“How ever did you manage?!” you laughed, along with Yuli at Heikans farfetched adventure.

 

“Well, I explained this to innkeeper, and she only said she’d give three more blankets! I couldn’t contain it all with that!” he jested.

 

The table’s giggles quiet down and Yuli speaks.

 

“I take it our darling commander won’t be joining us for dinner?” she muses.

 

“No, I seem to recall he was taking dinner in his room,” you jeer, mimicking her pleased tone. She grins and pours you some more rice wine.

 

The Empress hums sadly. “My gentle dove, I cannot begin to imagine the kind of stress you’ve been under since your unfortunate attachment to that man. You must be exhausted,” she pouts, folding her hands atop the table.

 

You purse your lips and keep your gaze down. “I’m _absolutely_ exhausted. He’s just so bitter and reserved, and always so distant and disdainful and short with me and-... oh, I could just go on about his imperfections,” you sigh, raising your glass to your lips for a deep drink.

 

“The ancestor’s hearts and ours break for you, truly,” the Emperor consoles, mimicking the Empress and folding his hands onto the table. Yuli and Heikan follow suit and they’re all looking pointedly at you. You pause at their strange synchronization and notice they all bear silver rings with a blue jeweled center and it strikes you as frighteningly familiar.

 

“Should you ever need sanctuary-” the Empress says gently, moving the dial on her ring to revel the bright red symbol of the Resistance. You gasp.

 

“-we will protect you with our dying breath,” she finishes, the rest of the dinner table revealing their ring symbols.

 

You look at the wistful smiles on your hosts faces, a twinge of fear running through you again. These wonderful people had let in the Commander of the First Order to their world and risked the destruction of their cover, all so that you could relax and recover.

 

The Emperor places a hand over yours comfortingly. “My sweet rosebud, you’ve always been like a granddaughter to us, and we love you. You are family and we will not abandon you to this wolf,” he says.

 

“Our country weeps for you,” Yuli adds, her hand coming to rest over her swollen belly. “When we heard news, there was such a disturbance amongst the people.”

 

“The Resistance also mourns for you,” the Empress hums, tilting her head sadly. “It was no small task to deliver your gift, but it was the least we could do.”

 

“I am more grateful than I can say,” you whisper, your eyes wetting as you give them all a thankful smile.

 

“Well, good! Let us not focus on these rumors then, tonight, we are celebrating your arrival!” Heikan chimes, raising his glass for a toast. The court and advisors raise their glass in a cheer as well, and you feel a swell of pride for your family. Their smiling faces and gleeful voices filled you with hope and you focused on it, rejoicing in their happiness.

 

LINE

 

You were escorted to your room after dinner by the same servant who saw to your arrival. You find out his name is Oexo and thank him for his assistance. When you arrive, you feel a bit bubbly from both the sake and the festivities. You hum as you make your way to the closet and dresser across the room, almost dancing on your toes. Opening the dark wood closet, you sift through the clothes for a nightgown, wiggling to you own humming in the dark room.

 

The walls are cream and with maple trees painted bright red, the bottom third of the walls decorated with carved wooden panels. On the back wall were two rectangular windows made of squares, and in between, a door panel, which might lead to a balcony or personal garden. Light from the waxing moon outside streams in to illuminate a path to the bath, which is on the right wall by the bed. The bed sits low to the floor, covered in blue silks with floral designs and a mountain of tasseled and embroidered pillows with a sheer canopy draped over.

 

You can’t see if Kylo is here but don’t really care, padding to the bath to change into your night things, your feet dancing over the large maple rug. You change quickly and twirl out of the bathroom, reaching the bed and flinging back the sheer curtain. You grasp the silk covers to slide underneath but you’re humming halts when you see another figure, turned on his side away from you, barebacked and still.

 

You’re not sure what to do and look around the room for a couch or pillow to sleep on. You could sleep on the rug, but you’d have to steal a few pillows. For a moment, you contemplate a comfy spot, but turn to the alternative at hand. Maybe you could just stay on your side and he’d stay on his? There was space on both sides of the bed, so it wouldn’t be as if you trapped him. You did worry about his hands wandering over though.

 

You shiver but remind yourself that he hates you. As soon as he woke, he’d probably bolt out of bed, leaving you to take up the rest of the space happily. Carefully, you lowered yourself onto the mattress, keeping yourself as close to the edge as comfortable. The sheets were warm and smelled like jasmine and the pillows were plush and soft. You’re comforted that you don’t touch Kylo and curl into yourself, wrapping the silk blankets around yourself. It isn’t hard to fall asleep, but Kylo is still having trouble.

 

He lays awake and stares at the wall, feeling his stomach twist. It didn’t feel right to be lying in the same bed as her. How she could accept something so intimate baffled him. He would’ve slept on the floor if he hadn’t been on a stuffy leather sofa for the last half of the week. The comfort of a mattress and the warmth of the comforter were welcomed.

 

 Every night after training, he’d come in to see her tucked under his covers, flipping through one of his books. It felt like she was taking over everything, what with the new decorations, her gowns crammed into the closet, her perfumes and soaps and makeup strewn across the refreshers counter. And now she took his bed, went through his things, and forced him to take her to this dumb planet. She was everywhere, and it was maddening! It was no wonder he couldn’t escape her. The places that were once his, she now occupied fully.

 

So, he stayed, feeling the pull the covers closer to her side and he grabbed at them defensively. Slowly, he dragged them back to his side and she shifted. Waking her would be awkward, so he contented to being half covered. Rolling his eyes with a deep sigh, he dug himself into the mattress for warmth.

 

This was far too intimate. Snoke would be displeased. Perhaps she was only drunk again, her inhibitions dropping. Well, he wouldn't accept any advances, not when she was intoxicated.

 

‘ _Not even when she’s in her right mind, either,’_ he chided himself before agreeing wholeheartedly.

 

Thankfully, his mind didn’t drift any further and he fell into a peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter goes by really quickly, even though it's still +4000 words... but anyways! I don't know about you guys, but I am READY for the kisses. Slow builds are great, don't get me wrong, but they are so frustrating to write, and I hope it doesn't feel like Kylo likes the reader out of nowhere, considering its been building offscreen (off page?) for a few days. I'll try to write his perspective more so that the pacing doesn't feel too sudden. Next chapter is going to take a while, I'll be putting more thought into it and writing more carefully. 
> 
> Feel free to leave thoughts or feedback! I'm not writing any options b/c I have no idea how the next chapter will go! Thank you to everyone who's been commenting so far, you guys really do help!


	6. Peace Fades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is pretty fun, I found a groove and finally finished this chapter! I'm trying a center-aligned layout, tell me if you guys like it better! I've brainstormed a lot, and now I'm pretty sure I can get on track with the story. I hope you all enjoy!

You wake gently to the tender warmth of the sun and the sweet coolness of a breeze, which carries a quiet duet of chimes and the twittering of birds. You smile gently and begin to lazily move yourself out of the jasmine silks from the night before. Your arms stretch upwards and tangle into your hair and you arch your back to pop a few segments deliciously. Letting out a hum of delight, you lift your eyelids to embrace the beauty of the morning.

 

The patio door of your room has been slid open and light pours into the room to illuminate the grandeur you hadn’t seen the night before. The murals of the japanese maples on the walls have peaceful cranes resting underneath and other animals dotting the landscape. The furniture has golden accents and intricate floral designs carved into the material. Your silk sheets and pillows glimmer with golden thread and in the sun, you look as if you lay in a mountain of gold and sapphires.

 

Kylo isn’t there with you. He must have woken early and left for breakfast. You wonder if you looked a mess when you were asleep. You hoped you hadn’t given him ammunition for future insults.

 

Kicking your legs out, you rise out of bed with a content energy, brimming with peace and ready to begin the day. However, you’re not quite sure what that encompasses. Firstly, you take care of your hygiene, brushing your teeth and hair and preparing your skin for the day. The expensive moisturizers melt into your skin and you walk back into your room refreshed, but still without purpose. You pick up the sound of running water outside and decide to explore.

 

Stepping out onto the wooden patio, you find a low table and two cushions sat by the edge of the square landing. The table has a small breakfast laid out of fruits that bead with dew and a basket holding a single bean-filled bun and some crumbs. A pot of tea sits next to two plates, one topped with crumbs and fruit stems, and two ivory teacups. The patio is not blocked by a railing and you can see that the short stairs on either side lead down to a private garden. Large, flat stones lead across a green yard of grass towards a bubbling natural pool with a waterfall feature and most notably, your husband.

 

He sits at the edge of the pool, his feet dangling over and cooling in the water while a gentle breeze blows through the branches of the japanese maples that corner the tall bamboo fence bordering the space.

 

You pour yourself some lukewarm rosebud tea and follow down the steps and across the stone path to join him by the waterside. He seems unconcerned by your presence as you sit down beside him, your back to the water. You lift the cup to your lips and take a sip, allowing the sweetness to slid across your tongue as the scent of rose fills your nose. You sigh contently.

 

“What a beautiful day,” you say, soaking in the ambient temperature and symphony of beautiful noises. Kylo makes no response or acknowledgement and continues to stare at the water. You don’t mind. He’s wearing a very nice scarlet kimono with cherry blossom embroidery.

 

“I mean just take a moment,” you begin again, tilting your head back and closing your eyes with a smile. “Soak it in.”

 

You enjoy the chirps of birds and crickets, the whisper of the ripples in the water, the gurgle of the water feature, the sound of the breeze through the branches, the distant twinkle of chimes.

 

“Peace,” you decide aloud.

 

“It’s so loud,” Kylo grumbles, and you consider his words.

 

“There are a lot of noises, yes,” you reply after a moment, opening your eyes to look at him. His hands are idly tearing apart a bright red maple leaf. “But it’s peaceful. Everything is calm, at ease. Everyone here seems so happy, too.”

 

Kylo scoffs, becoming bored with his casual destruction and tossing the crimson pieces into the water. “You’re happy here?” he chuffs.

 

You turn and smile up at the soft, wispy clouds in the sky.

 

“Yes,” you hum. “In this moment, I am perfectly happy.”

 

There is no response and you both slip back into the noises of nature, but you become curious of his disposition.

 

“Aren’t you happy? Or at least relaxed?” you ask.

 

“No,” he grunts. “I am surrounded by enemies; how can I relax?”

 

“By trying,” you snort, laying your legs out in front of you comfortably.

 

“Go get a massage, or take a nap, or drink some tea. Something to calm you down.”

 

“Peace is the Jedi way, I will not participate in anything that pulls me from the dark side,” he grumbles. “My anger fuels me.”

 

You sigh but try to steady back into your mellow state of mind. “You don’t have to be angry all the time,” you try to reason.

 

“I _am_ always angry,” Kylo states, facing you with a pout. “That’s why I am the master of the Knights.”

 

“I suppose you consider yourself lucky then, don’t you?” you mumble, feeling him spoil your good mood. You pitied him for a moment. It must be exhausting to be angry all the time. Of course, you held a grudge once or twice in your life, but the anger faded eventually, forgiveness came. How did he find ways to always be angry? What did he focus on to drive that source of “power”?

 

You needed to get out before you turned sour. Somehow, he had a way of sucking the fun out of everything. Sighing, you stand with your tea.

 

“I’m going to go see the emperor and empress,” you inform and begin to walk back.

 

“Oh, you can’t,” Kylo calls over his shoulder.

 

You stop with a look of disbelief and turn back. “Excuse me?” you pitch.

 

“The servant said they’d be out on business, so calm down,” he deadpans.

 

“Oh,” you mutter, your brow denting as you look down.

 

How strange that they’d leave. It wasn’t very polite to leave a guest alone in your home and was definitely against ghyuinen etiquette. It must have been very urgent. You turn back to go inside and contemplate what to do next as you shuffle through your wardrobe. Another massage day seemed excessive after yesterday and you really couldn’t get your nails done again. Maybe you could stroll the gardens or steam in the hot springs?

 

You slip on an ivory dress that falls off the shoulders in short sleeves and fits boxy until gathered around your waist, before it falls and flows gracefully over your frame. You slip on some satin shoes and some jewels as Kylo steps inside.

 

“Alright, fine. What do I have to do to relax?” he growls, waving his hands around and not looking at you.

 

You look confused as you pull on a slipper. “Um, I’m sorry?”

 

“To relax!” he grunts, placing a hand on his hand and twirling his other wrist before it falls to his side. “Tell me how to relax, what do I do?!”

 

“Well, stop shouting for starters,” you reply in a high tone. “And I don’t know? Go get a massage,” you suggest.

 

He grimaces and scoffs. “ _No_ ,” he whines. “I don’t want anyone _touching_ me.”

 

“Fine, acupuncture?” you sigh, straightening your dress before heading for the door.

 

“As if I would let some fools place needles along my nerve system,” he scoffs, turning to watch you walk out.

 

You pray he doesn’t follow you into the hallway, but you hear his steps behind you and grumble.

 

“What else?” he grunts, keeping up with your quickening pace quite naturally.

 

You shake your head, searching for a quick answer.

 

“Cupping,” you spit out.

 

“Cupping _what_?” he grimaces, and you shoot him a look.

 

“ _Your skin, you freak_ ,” you glower and then pace off quicker.

 

“ _Hey-_ ” Kylo growls, snatching your arm to turn you back around. “-you were so insistent that I relax, and now you won’t do anything now that the opportunity arises?”

 

“I don’t have to take care of you!” you defend bitterly, trying to pry his fingers from your arm.

 

“You made this your problem,” he snarls.

 

“You are _a_ problem, but you are not _my problem,_ ” you jeer, retching your arm from his grip and striding towards the nearest common room.

 

Luckily, it appears to be a library, and quite a large one at that. Four large pillars corner the main lobby and a set of stairs to the left lead up and over the front desk to the second floor. Books line the walls and the shelves carry gilded ladders that slide along the surface.

 

Kylo strides in behind you but you turn and cut him off from speaking.

 

“Here!” you gesture dramatically at the room. “Escape into the immersive world of fine literature!” you grunt, and then stride off for the stairs.

 

You begin your ascent, trotting quickly up the wooden steps. You pause at the top, your hand clenched in the skirt of your dress, and look down over your shoulder. Kylo is still there, watching you with a bitter expression. Amazed he hasn’t followed to antagonize you, you quickly take the last step to the second floor and dip into the winding maze of intricate bookshelves.

 

You felt safer up here, running your hands along the worn spines, with a pout that was stubbornly attached to your lip. It was all his fault, honestly. You’d been rather polite this morning. There were no biting remarks or dismissive utterances and you’d been very patient. He was very good at ruining your mood. He could make a sport out of it. Shuffling through the cases, you figured you might read something, considering that you might be left alone to enjoy yourself.

 

Your vision abruptly goes dark as you feel a pair of hands come around your eyes and you gasp.

 

“Guess who?” a honeyed voice hums, and just as quickly as it left, your sight is returned to you. Their warm hands rest on your shoulders and turn you around.

 

Your heart leaps into your throat. He’s handsome. The man before you is tall and smiles warmly, a gentle twinkle in his amber eyes framed in long lashes. His long nose looks more chiseled than foxy and compliments his angled jaw and high cheekbones. His dark hair is half pulled up and the bun is held by an ornate golden comb that matches the molded pin on the breast of his sapphire robe, the rest of his silky hair falling over his shoulders.

 

You blink owlishly at this stranger, baffled by his association with you and his broad shoulders. He makes a momentary recognition of your confusion and pulls a sheepish expression.

 

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me? What about our poems during our younger summers, have you forgotten those?” he teases, hands sliding down your arms to pull your hands into his.

 

You gape. “Jiang?!”

 

He smiles wide, squeezing your palms. “The very one!”

 

You make a noise, trying to form words, a grin stretching across your face. “I-I… wow, I-”

 

“My my, look at you!” he grins, spinning you around with his grip on your hand. You let out a short giggle before he steadies you.

 

“Still so beautiful,” he smiles at you, and you feel a deeper meaning under his words. It stuns you further and you must contain the blush that runs across your cheeks. You let out a short laugh, lowering your eyes at the weight of the complement, unable to contain a smile.

 

“A-aha. I-uhm,” you blubber, before he raises your knuckles to his lips and places a gentle kiss against them.

 

“It’s wonderful to see you again, as well,” he grins, which only flusters you further and you stumble into a recovery. He was never this bold as a child, quite the opposite.

 

“Yes! It’s wonderful to see you! Aha, I- um… I-I hardly recognized you!” you bubble, sure that your face was on fire.

 

“You mean not at all!” he laughs. “It seems we’ve both grown quite a bit.”

 

“Yes, it seems so…” you say, dazed.

 

You’re both silent for a moment, Jiang smiling down at you while stars danced in your eyes. Upon feeling the tension, he clears his throat and looks away shyly. You realize your hand is still nestled into his and you both gently pull apart. He smiles at you tenderly and steps close. You tense up as he raises an arm, but he brings a small book out from the bookcase behind, and you relax sheepishly.

 

Jiang holds up the worn, leather book with a grin. “How about a trip down memory lane?”

 

You recognize the title and give him a look. “Oh, that one? It’s so childish!” you grin.

 

“But it was your favorite! It’s the same copy, you know,” he exclaims, and you take on a surprised expression. He grins wide at that and opens to the back cover, where your childhood doodles of cranes and frogs are autographed with both of your signatures.

 

You’re stunned, and Jiang offers his arm. “Read with me?” he asks, and you feel yourself melt.

 

With an enraptured smile, you weave your arm through his and he leads you through the bookcases.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The two of you are caught in the middle of a laugh, poetry books are spread open on the table abandoned as you both entangle in conversation.

 

“You’re so different from when we were children,” you laugh, “what did they do to you in that Institution?”

 

“Aah,” he replies, wrinkling his nose. “Yes, I was… a strange child.”

 

“You weren’t strange, just shy,” you smile.

 

“And quiet and awkward and whiny-” he lists, and you playfully swat his arm.

 

“Don’t you dare say such things!” you giggled. “You were intelligent and witty and kind.”

 

“Well, I’m thankful you thought so highly of me,” he smiled. “It wasn’t Haiju Kei that changed me. I graduated early and after that, I mean. I don’t know, I suppose I felt lost.”

 

He shrugs, looking away to fiddle his fingers with the page of a book. “I decided I would travel and it’s truly changed me. I’ve been so many places, crossed nebulas and explored solar systems. I’ve met some inspiring souls who I have the pleasure of calling friends.”

 

He looks to you, a familiar glimmer in his gaze. “I heard you were here and I had to come back, to see you,” he says softly. The heaviness in the air returns and you lower your lashes a bit.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t see you sooner. I wish I could have helped you. I know we were close as children,” he hums, in that honeyed voice.

 

“I don’t think anything could’ve been done,” you sigh, pressing your fingernail into the table absently.

 

Jaing slips his hand under your palm and twines his fingers with yours. You flick your gaze to him and he’s looking down contently at your tangled fingers.

 

“I could have. I could have done something,” he says quietly, rubbing his thumb across your hand.

 

Your breath catches in your throat and you don’t know what to say. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest and he finally meets your gaze.

 

“I have a ship you know. You dreamed about traveling, I remember. I could take you anywhere you wanted,” he says, a sheepish smile gracing his face. Your jaw falls slack, lips parting tenderly as your brows tip up.

 

“Jiang,” you whisper, and you don’t know if it’s a warning or an agreement. It sounded like a dream, to run away with this wonderful man and explore the universe together and whatever might blossom between the two of you. Jiang had never been an option to you, he was a friend when you were young and nothing further. But now, here he is, everything you adored as a child and now what you craved as a woman. He seemed to have acknowledged his charm and wit and was still so sweet and smart.  

 

A small part of yourself reminded you that you were married, but you weren’t dedicated to Kylo. How could you be?

 

A large book slams on the other side of the table and you both jump. You’re filled with dread as Kylo towers on the other side of the table. He’s brimming with a barely contained rage, fists shaking by his side as he burns your gaze with his. You look down at your hand tangled with Jiangs and rip your hand away, feeling your skin tingle in shame. Jiang is looking at Kylo with a calm bravado and you gape in a fish-like manner.

 

“I-” you barely manage before Kylo interrupts with a booming voice.

 

“ _I did some reading_ ,” he says, stressing every syllable as if he’s holding back a volcanic eruption.

 

You gulp, and he strides past the two of you.

 

“ _Let’s go_ ,” he growls making way for the stairs.

 

You don’t move, paralyzed in your seat. You almost comply, afraid to upset him further but Jiang places his hand on your shoulder and you gather some strength. Kylo realizes you haven’t moved and stops dead, not facing you.

 

“I’m staying here,” you announce, goosebumps running across your skin, anticipating the storm.

 

You see him tremble and he turns to face you, bubbling over with fury.

 

Upon seeing his terrible expression Jiang stands abruptly and places himself in front you, a hand stepping out to shield you.

 

Kylo’s focus goes to Jiang and the gesture seems to have tipped him over, because he strides towards him and begins to raise his arm. Jiang clenches fist and you bolt out of your seat.

 

“No!” you beg, digging your fingers into Kylo’s forearm.

 

His arm is hard under your grip, a vein popping out of his neck. He snaps his gaze to yours and thankfully he softens slightly. You plead with your eyes, shaking against him. His heavy breathes pause and he looks you up and down, gulps, and yanks his arm from your grip. For a split second, you see the pain in his eyes.  

 

“You’re deceitful and disgusting,” he spits at you. “You’re a snake.” He turns on his heel and stomps to the stairs without a look back.

 

You have no rebuttal and feel sick, Jiang comes up behind you and places his hand on your shoulder tenderly. The contact feels inappropriate and it seems he can sense the stiffness because it falls from your shoulder.

 

You feel cold.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When dinner rolls around, the emperor and empress have returned, and you’ve recovered from your spat with Kylo. Gygy and Teosu rejoice in the arrival of their son, showering him with affection. Empress Gygy had bought a gift from the marketplace for you, a beautiful necklace of gold and pearls. Jiang attempts to be sweet to you again you meet every attempt with an apologetic smile and pull his hand off your shoulder or wrist. Dinner goes well, and before you know it, you’re boozy and off to bed, hardly thinking about who might be there when you arrive.

 

You’re reminded when you open the door and see him standing in the open door to the patio, his back to you, his shirt gone. He looks over his shoulder just enough to glare at you.

 

“Uhh ohh,” you murmur to yourself, before dropping your gaze and trying to covertly make your way to the bathroom. Kylo turns fully and steps in front of you, arms crossed and blocking your path.

 

“We need to talk,” he grumbles, and you avoid his gaze.

 

“Mmmmmm, I don’t wanna hear it,” you decide, before attempting to sidestep him which he blocks easily.

 

“You don’t have a choice,” he growls. “You are my wife and that means your faithful to me, not some cloistered asshole. Who even was he? Why were you-... _holding his hand_?!”

 

You look up to meet his glare with a pouty glare. “ _Because you won’t._ ”

 

His face changes and his jaw slacks.

 

You put your hands on his chest and attempt to push him but push yourself backwards instead. After steadying yourself, you ball your fists and try to look mean.

 

“And don’t talk about Prince Jaing that way! He is _romantic_ , and _smart,_ and… and… _intelligent_ ,” you ramble.

 

Kylo pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are so pathetic,” he sighs.

 

“-and he’s _poetic-_ ”

 

“-and you’re very drunk.”

 

“-and you _wish_ you could be him, because he is twice- fifteen times the man that-that you will ever be!”

 

Kylo glares. “That putrid waste will never be anywhere _near_ the man I am. But he might be just what you need, since you're both spoiled, pampered palace brats!”

 

You scrunched up your face and in a fit of drunkenness reeled back your palm and struck him across the cheek. When his head snapped to the side and the clap rang through the room, you gasped. You immediately regret the strike, your palm stinging and your head reeling from your brashness. Your breath halts for the moment and those few seconds seems to last a lifetime.

But you can’t back down, you won’t. He can’t- he has to- he’ll respect you! You square your shoulders and tighten your jaw in an attempt at confidence. In the light of the moon, you can see the redness glowing on his skin already and his shoulders begin to shake. You can feel his anger like a tremor, a precursor to the earthquake. He doesn’t look at you but instead clenches his jaw and calmly walks over to the dresser, hands coming down to grip like a vice on the edges as he steadies himself. You absolutely regret the strike and fear bubbles in your heart, you’re shaking like a leaf. He seems to be attempting a hold on his temper, silent for a long time before he erupts.

 

Kylo yells and flings the dresser to the floor, the crack of wood ringing out as splinters and chunks of the carving go flying. You hand covers your mouth and tears well up in your eyes. You tremble as he turns to you.

 

“I have been _so_ patient with you,” he snarls, stalking towards you. You’re paralyzed on the spot, holding back a stunned sob.

 

“And now, you want to get _violent_.”

 

He steps in front of you, holding a murderous fury and your sob breaks out. You close your eyes and wait for a beating, crying and shaking viciously. Tears stream down your face and quiet sobs rack your shoulders. Fear and regret courses through you, and you expect the worse. Your nose runs, and you start to realize that you’re not being pummeled. Cautiously, you look up and see the strangest look on Kylo’s face. You don’t have the capacity to process his look of defeat, almost apologetic, and instead dart for the door.

 

“You’re a monster!” you sob, tripping over your dress as you run.

 

You don’t know where you’re going but you don’t care who finds you, as long as they comfort you. Going down one hallway, you hear a door behind you open and Jaing calls your name. You break down in sobs again and rush to him, only noticing his wet, naked chest until after you throw your arms around him.

 

“Oh, ancestors no, did he hurt you?! I should’ve never let you go, I didn’t think,” he babbled, taking your face into his hands and looking for injury.

 

You shook your head and placed your hands on his wrists. “Noo, we- he- I,” you blubbered in between gasps, before breaking down again. Your head was beginning to spin, you shouldn’t have drank so much.

 

“Oh, sweet rose, come here,” Jaing coos, sweeping you off your feet to carry you into his room. You cry against his neck and don’t remember falling asleep.

 

 

 

 

In the morning, you wake up in silk sheets with a debilitating headache. The room is quite dim, but it still burns in your eyes and you try to piece together where you are. You know it’s not your room and then your memory trickles back. You groan.

 

You struck Kylo last night. He might’ve hit you back, but you don’t remember. You pull the sheets over your head.

 

“Heyyy,” comes Jaing’s soft voice from the opposite side of the bed.

 

You peek out to see that he’s sitting on the side, holding a steaming cup of tea, pity in his smile.

 

“I brewed you some tea… It’s ginger. It should help,” he says, offering you the cup.

 

You bring yourself to sit with much trouble and shakily take tea. You grimace down into the liquid. “Ginger,” you repeat, before taking a sip. The warmth helps your throat but not your migraine. No more drinking for you.

 

“If you’re willing,” starts Jaing quietly, “can you tell me what happened last night?”

 

You pause at the unpleasantness but comply. “...We… we had a fight, Kylo and I,” you admit, leaving out the slap.

 

“Did he hurt you?” Jaing pressed, anger hidden in his tone. You shake your head and regret it.

 

“No,” you murmur, “he didn’t. I thought he wanted to _kill me_ , though. He was so angry…”

 

Jaing twiddles his thumbs and looks uncomfortable. “I… I have to tell you something then.”

 

You shift your gaze to him, taking a small sip from your tea. Jaing takes a deep breath.

 

“Last night, the guards discovered a woman's body in the gardens.”

 

Your cup feels loose in your hands.

 

“Kylo murdered one of our servants.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how about that smut tho? Check out what COULD have happened in this chapter in the series section of this of this story. ;) i am so excited to experiment next chapter, thank you all for the wait! I hope it was worth it! Sharing your thoughts helps me to shape this story better to your demands, so no feedback is unimportant, even negative feedback!
> 
> A.) i like the tension added with Jaing  
> B.) Jaing needs to head out, get him out of here!  
> C.) i'm loving the angst and can't wait for more in the next chapters  
> D.) enough angst! I need them to kiss and makeup :(  
> E.) reader needs Alcohol Anonymous
> 
> anything else you'd like to say? Tell me about it!


	7. The Trial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8 is already in the making and this chapter was almost 6,000 words! Wow! They just keep getting longer! I felt like this one had a hard time ending, but that's okay, right? You all like looooong chapters, right? Annnnd somebody might've been a lil smarty pants in the comment section last time, so go you!

Breakfast is unsettlingly quiet.

You sat the great dining hall with the other members of the royal family. Empress Gygy sat only with some tea and stirred it absently with a silver spoon. Your own cup was raised to your lips, but your heavy thoughts distracted you from taking a sip. You looked as if frozen in time.

_ ‘It could have been me,’  _ you repeat to yourself, over and over.

You’re pulled from your trance when Jaing lays a hand on your shoulder, and you startle. He smiles gently before taking the seat next to you.

“Where is he?” you ask quietly.

“Detained,” he replies, “it was difficult for our officers, but we used smelling salts. We’re planning on keeping him unconscious until we decide what to do with him.”

“What we should do is feed him to the koi,” the empress snarls, her lip curling up.

“It’s an option,” the emperor sighs, “traditionally, he deserves a trial.”

The empress tsks. “I never was a fan of tradition.”

“I can’t believe he’s done this,” you murmur, running your finger around the rim of your cup.

Jiang rubs your back soothingly. “You shouldn’t blame yourself. He’s killed before and he’ll do it again, it isn’t that surprising.”

He’s right, of course. One of the most feared men in the galaxy, you can’t imagine all the horrors he’s been involved in. He was a war mongrel, destroying all who oppose the First Order and that was quite a bit. It was only a matter of time before he struck again, loyal husband or not.

You ponder that a moment. Had he been faithful to you for the entirety of your marriage? You wouldn’t have been surprised if he came back smelling like another woman or was rumored to be involved with someone else. It might’ve hurt, to see such blatant disregard for the bond you two now shared, even as nonconsensual as it was.

Thinking back to the library incidence yesterday, you can see why he’d be upset. He was rather dramatic about it, though, considering his vocal hatred of you.

Jiang gently rubs his knuckles against your jaw, recognizing your piling worries.

“Don’t drift too far,” he smiles, “come back to us for a while.”

You stutter and give a humorless chuff, looking down at your hands in your lap. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just… trying to understand it all,” you say, looking up to meet his smile, but it doesn’t touch your eyes.

“There isn’t anything to worry about. It’ll all be taken care of,” he soothes, and Heikan snorts across the table as he pokes at his food.

“Except for war. We have war to worry about,” he grumbles.

_ War _ . You can’t imagine your family thrown into this war.

“There won’t be a war,” Jaing chimes, rolling his eyes. “There will be tension and his leader will be upset, but with a proper trial, no one can justify his actions enough to incite a war.”

“Don’t be naive, my son. If this man is executed, our actions will not be ignored,” the emperor scolded, looking stern.

“Father, we cannot let this pass,” Jaing grimaces. “The people will be outraged; the ancestors call for justice!”

“Do not pretend to know the will of the ancestors,” Teosu rebuked, looking sour and pausing in his meal. “It is dangerous for a man to justify his impulses through the ancestors, and  _ shameful _ !”

“I apologize, father,” Jaing mutters, and you are compelled to place your hand comfortingly on his arm. He acknowledges the contact and gives you a smile. He addresses his father again.

“Even still…” he says, and you notice empress Gygy is observing your touch on Jaing’s arm.

Teosu considers his sons words, looking down at his plate and sighing. After a long moment, he speaks. “There will be trial this afternoon,” he concedes, and a grin stretches across Jaing’s face.

Empress Gygy is looking at you pointedly and the attention makes you self-conscious of your contact with Jaing.

“A word of caution, my son,” she starts, as you remove your hand sheepishly, “justice and politics are not always the same. Consider your motives before proclaiming yourself to be either.”

Jaing scoffs playfully. “Mother-” he starts, but she raises a hand.

“Just a word of caution,” she repeats.

The warning sinks heavy in your heart. The empress must be confused. Any other time, this attack would call for an execution, for justice, but the situation was more complicated. You’re sure Kylo wouldn’t appreciate being detained when he woke up, and you’re not sure if he would be so forgiving if he was freed. On the other hand, his execution would destroy Ghyuinen. The First Order wouldn’t tolerate the loss, you can’t imagine losing the royal family to their destruction. You think back to their alliance with the Resistance. You wondered if they would help, you wondered if it would matter. Resistance forces and support had dwindled after the Republic was destroyed, but without a death star, perhaps you had a chance. You could evacuate the planet and go sailing across the universe with Jaing.

It feels unrealistic to even think about it, an impossible dream. You didn’t want war, there was too much of it already. You felt as if you had dragged them all into this. Perhaps you never should have come here.

Jaing calls your name and pulls you from your thoughts again. He looks worried and he opens his mouth to speak but a guard rushes into the room, huffing and puffing and holding his shoulder.

“Your Highness Prince Jaing, he’s awake,” he pants, leaning against the door frame.

Jaing looks astonished but recovers quickly. “I’ll come with you,” he states, standing sharply.

“He demands to see the princess,” the guard adds on, stopping Jaing in his tracks.

He looks back to you and calculates your expression. You meet his gaze worriedly.

“That won’t be necessary,” he replies, before continuing on his way, his gold and emerald robes flourishing. “Take me to him, quickly.”

“Yessir,” huffs the guard, and the two hurry to the dungeons.

Even for a place of imprisonment, the hallways are immaculately clean while still very plain. Jaing follows the guard down the cream-colored hall lined with thick, heavy, wooden doors. The prince can hear the struggle of the guards at the very last room, and the guard escorting him rotates the lock and hefts the door open. Four guards are scrambling to hold Kylo’s limbs down, one successfully strapping down an arm with a wide leather belt before Kylo slams his head into the guard’s nose with a yell. The guard stumbles back, clutching at his nose before falling off his feet. Another guard grabs a fistful of Kylo’s raven hair and yanks him back down against the wooden slab, then another guard hastens to fasten a strap around his neck. Kylo snarls and finally meets eyes with Jaing. His eyes burn.

“What is the meaning of this?!” he roars, pulling at his constraints.

“Last night, you strangled and stabbed a female member of our staff. We discovered her this morning. You will be put on trial this afternoon,” Jaing states blandly.

“I have an idea of who I’d  _ like  _ to strangle,” Kylo threatens lowly.

Jaing shakes his head, curling his lip. “Of course, you do. You’re pitiful.”

He nods at a guard. “Put him under,” he commands, “I want him quiet until the trial.”

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Kylo snarls, fists clenched tightly. The guard to his left shuffles through a bag of salts.

“Then how did we find the knife in your dresser?” Jaing sneered.

“I don’t  _ have  _ a knife,” Kylo growled, and Jaing shrugs.

“Then you must’ve stolen it from somewhere,” he provides easily.

Kylo glares at him, the guard coming forward with a small white vial. Something changes in his expression, a moment of clarity.

“It was you,” he whispered.

Jaing’s confidence splinters in his face and Kylo rages. “I saw you, leaving the gardens. You did it, and now you’re framing me,” he growls.

Jaing is quiet, glaring for a moment. “Your lies won’t matter when you’re dead,” he finally says, turning for the door.

“Where is she?!” Kylo growls after him, and Jaing halts in the doorway.

“Safe with me,” he replies coolly, turning back to smirk over his shoulder. “Don’t fool yourself into caring, she’s too warm to belong to a snake like you.”

The guard lifts the fumes to Kylo’s nose and he turns his head and holds his breath, but Jaing is still boasting.

“I can take care of her, make her feel loved, take her places she’d love to see, make sure she knows that she is the kindest, loveliest, most patient and most amazing woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. You could never bring her the happiness she deserves,” he sneers, looking back over his shoulder. “You’re nothing but a weak, cowardly ogre. Your heart is black and you spit venom. You take peace from this place and turn it into fear so you can manipulate those who are too kind to resist. You’re pathetic. You’re disgusting. You’re-”

Jaing’s head jerks sideways and smacks with a loud crack against the doorframe. He yelps out and clutches his injury, snarling before turning to a cruelly smirking Kylo. He finally lets out a breath, unable avoid the smell of the salts any longer. His eyes droop closed as the chemicals take over his system and Jaing steadies himself.

“Let the rat claw at his cage,” he sneers before exiting the cell.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Is it bruising?” he asks gently, your fingertips ghosting over the swollen skin.

You sigh. “I don’t think so. Does it hurt?” you ask, and he smiles sadly at you.

“A little bit,” he admits. “Maybe some tender affection will help it,” he suggests, and you give him a look, which he returns with a cheeky grin.

“What are you saying exactly?” you smile, and he takes your hand and begins to place kisses across your knuckles, keeping your gaze.

“Just that I might deal with a pain a bit better if there were some pleasure to counteract it,” he hums, and a pulse runs across your skin.

You look away shyly, unsure of how to respond.

“I think you’re man enough to deal with it,” you murmur, a blush creeping across your cheeks.

He pulls your arm towards himself just enough to get you to face him again. You notice his sly expression and he looks so much like a fox in this instance.

“You think me a man?” he grins.

“Well, it’s obvious isn’t it?” you reply as casually as you can.

He smirks, and your stomach flips unexpectedly.

“You are too shy for you own good,” he hums, and you catch his glance at your lips.

You pull away with a nervous laugh. “I suppose the tables have turned then,” you chuckle, and look up at the fluffy clouds to distract your heart.  

His hand lays on your knee and you snap your gaze to his. He’s so close brushing shoulders with you, while his eyes hold a deep emotion. Desire swirls in the ambers of his eyes and he holds the warmest expression. He says your name so softly you’re unsure if his voice ever left his lips.

In the corner of your eye, the movement of a guard jogs into the courtyard and steals your attention. You’re thankful for the distraction and Jaing sighs before turning his attention to the guard.

“I said keep him under,” he gruffs and the guard bows.

“My apologies, Your Highness. But he wants to confess,” the guard reports.

Both of you react with surprise. You take it as a boastful move, Jaing takes it as a ploy.

“Alright,” he agrees quietly, “I’ll hear his confession.”

“He wants to confess to the princess,” the guard adds on timidly, “or he says he won’t confess at all.”

Jaing is still and you look sideways to see his jaw clenched hard. He considers it for a while, then agrees.

“Fine,” he grunts,” take us to him. It doesn’t matter who the confession goes to.”

His eyes widen for a moment and then look down at you. “Will you be alright?” he asks worriedly, and you take a deep breath before nodding.

“I’ll be fine,” you assure, then turn to the guard. “Take us to him.”

The guard escorts you both quickly and you end up in the, now quiet, dungeon hall. As you stand before the large wooden cell door, an energy can be felt reverberating through the slab and it runs goosebumps over your skin. You shiver and Jaing rubs your shoulder. The guard rolls the lock and the door drags open, revealing a restrained Kylo. He appears to have been roughed up, with an angry red patch on his temple and a yellowing bruise across his opposite cheek. You bristle at his injuries but compose yourself. He was a murderer. You step inside confidently, keeping your gaze cold as he meets your eye.

“Everyone out,” he commands, and Jaing scoffs. “And close the door,” Kylo adds.

“That’s out of the question,” Jiang grumbles, and Kylo’s eyes shift to him. He studies him for a moment, then lays his head against the wood with a sigh, looking up at the ceiling.

Jiang’s nose twitches and he scoffs again. “Ass,” he mumbles, before snapping his fingers. The comment surprises you. Jiang never spoke curses.

The guards exit and you suddenly feel uneasy at being completely alone with Kylo, but the door begins to slide closed before you can protest. You gulp as it slinks closed and the lock rolls back into place. You lift your gaze to face Kylo.

“I didn’t kill the servant girl,” he starts, and you roll your eyes. He dragged you in here to lie.

You cross your arms. “Kylo-” you whine.

“Jaing did,” he spits out quickly, and you’re stunned for a moment.

You blink and shake your head. “What?” you scoff.

“He murdered that girl, stashed the knife in the dresser, and is pinning it on me,” Kylo explains, urgency in his voice.

You laugh humorlessly. “And why would he do that? War would devastate Ghyuinen, he wouldn’t put his family at risk like that, his  _ home _ ,” you reason. You shake your head. “If you’re just going to make things up, I’m not going to hear it.”

“He loves you,” Kylo growls, and you sputter. “You should’ve heard him when he was here last. He was saying he was going to take you away, take care of you, give you everything you wanted,” he goes on.

“You’re a liar,” you try weakly.

“He’s obsessed with you; can’t you see that? He’s been here for two days and already he talks like you’re the center of the universe. How long have you known him?” Kylo grumbles.

You rub your arms, not wanting to give in to Kylo’s lies. “We were childhood friends, before he went off to boarding school. I haven’t seen him since,” you murmur. You couldn’t look at him. Love? Sure, Jiang had been blatantly flirtatious, touching you, being sweet, but it wasn’t more than infatuation. Puppy love, at best. You were only friends as children.

“He loves you,” Kylo repeats. “Don’t trust him, he’s twisting everything. If they execute me, there will be war. And this planet doesn’t stand a chance against the Order. Think of the people you love. As soon as he can, Jiang’s going to take you away somewhere, and this place will crumble into ashes. You have to-”

“No!” you cry, scrunching your face. “Quit lying to me! I… I don’t want to hear it!” you glare at him. “You’re a coward! You’re just trying to save yourself!” you growl.

He grimaces. “Shut up and accept the truth. You have to tell the court during my trial that I’m innocent-”

“You shut up! I’m so tired of you thinking you can control me, it’s enough! All you do is try and destroy what makes me happy, well I’m going to do whatever I want! You can rot in here for all I care!” you yell. You try to sound strong, but it comes out more like a whiny teenager.

The door comes open and Jiang rushes in, pulling you into his arms protectively. “Alright, that’s enough!” he spits, before looking at you tenderly. “Did he confess, my love?” he asks. The pet name catches you off guard and you blink owlishly.

“Uh,” you look back at Kylo, who is glaring at the embrace. “No,” you grumble.

“No matter, the truth will come out during the trial,” Jiang sighs.

“I certainly hope so,” Kylo seethes, and Jiang tosses him a look before leading you out of the cell.

“The trial will start soon, come,” he orders, his arm resting on your back.

  
  


 

* * *

 

You were becoming progressively more anxious with each passing moment, your fingers fidgeting in the fabric of your dress. The trial would begin soon, and the throne room was brimming with members of the court. The emperor and empress sat in their thrones, guards stood in front of the crowds to make room for the trial. Courtiers gossiped amongst each other and the low chatter only added to your impatience. Jiang slipped his fingers between yours, and you tried to find solidarity in his grip.

“Don’t worry, this will all end soon enough,” he leaned down to whisper.

  
  


“That’s what I’m worried about,” you mutter, more to yourself. He gives you a strange look but makes no reply.

The doors to the throne room open and the crowd goes quiet. Kylo is led in, flanked by the four guards from earlier. Though his hands are secured behind his back, he’s taller than all of them and it looks rather silly. His eyes immediately find you, standing by Jiang at the foot of the throne dais. He keeps his stale gaze on you as he’s escorted to the front of the room. The guard taps his foot at the back of Kylo’s knee, and Kylo complies into kneeling. Two guards point their spears at him.

Empress Gygy stands slowly from her throne.

“Commander Kylo Ren of The First Order, we bring you to trial today on the accusations of murder. You are accused of murdering a member of the royal staff in the gardens late last night. How do you plead?” she booms.

“Not guilty,” Kylo replies immediately, and the room feels colder.

The empress settles her jaw at that but continues.

“Then we await your defense. The Princess of Lunzar is the last person to have seen you last night, please recount your experiences after she left.”

Kylo sighs in annoyance. “I left to get some air, wandered around a bit, saw the prince leaving the gardens rather quickly, and then went back to my room to sleep.”

“The prince?” Gygy repeats, with little interest.

“Yes,” Kylo huffed,” the one holding my wife’s hand.”

The courts eyes turn to you and your hand burns in Jiang’s grip, before you pry your fingers from his and fold them behind your back, gulping and casting your gaze to the floor. The empress sighs, clearly annoyed.

“Noted,” she grumbles,” do you have any proof of your alibi?”

“No,” Kylo admits lowly.

“Then we will turn to the evidence.”

A servant steps forward and produces a small open box. The empress pulls out a long dagger, the blade covered in crackles of dried blood and the golden handle separated from her palm by a scarlet, silk handkerchief.

“This was found in your dresser. Provide your defense,” she orders, before placing the weapon back into its box.

“Did you check for fingerprints?” he asks boredly, shoulders slumping.

“The item appeared clean,” the empress grit between her teeth.

“So, the handle was cleaned but not the blade. That is awfully convenient,” Kylo hums, looking over to you and Jaing with a cold stare. “And tell me who found it in my dresser.”

The empress pauses, catching his implication. “Prince Jiang found it, after you were detained,” she admits quietly, before her eyes flicker over to her son questioningly. Your stomach dips at the accusation.

“Then that concludes my defense,” Kylo quips, and a murmur echoes through the court.

“Silence for the ancestors,” the empress calls out, effectively shushing them. She turns her steely gaze back to Kylo, hands folding gracefully into her sleeves.

“As a reminder, the royal family is a model for morals and understand the consequences of lying in court,” she says, stretching out each word, etched with a hidden warning. Kylo makes no reply, looking no more intimidated than a mountain.

You were convincing yourself that Kylo’s words were lies when the empress extended her hand to you.

“Sweet princess, Jaing claims you were witness to a confession this morning, may we please hear it?” she asks gently.

Your eyes widen, and you look to Jaing. He holds the most pleading expression, giving you a small smile. He takes your hand in his and pats it. “Yes, please tell them,” he whispers and your view of him shifts a bit. Your brow creases and you’re caught.

You suddenly feel so helpless. Jaing has been nothing but kind to you so far, but you know that this is a blatant lie. Kylo’s accusations are adding up and you’re trying to push it away, trying to keep your hold on sweet Jaing.

_ ‘I could take you away.’ _

You knew they couldn’t execute Kylo without war, but condemning him to death would set you free, you could run far away, fall in love, forget about your past life and those who would have to face the wrath of the First Order. Putting it that way took the foolish hope you had. You would be just as miserable, consumed by your guilt for the rest of your days. But sweet Jaing, who brought his hand up to cup your cheek, calling your name. Sweet Jaing who wrote you poetry about silly things and made you blush, who was your confidante as children and his answer to loneliness. Sweet, handsome Jaing with the gentlest smile, he could never hurt anyone. You searched through his eyes and you absently heard him encouraging. A “yes” poised on your tongue.

_ Yes, take me away. _

_ Yes, I want to be yours. _

_ Yes, make me forget, and soothe my grief. _

Your name falls from Kylo’s lips and it tremors through the room. Your gaze shifts to him instantly. In that moment, you recognize his fear. It isn’t obvious, his jaw is set tight, eyebrows scrunched together, but in his eyes, he knows you hold his life in your hands. You couldn’t be the one to take it from him. Your options fall hard on you and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Jiang recognizes the conviction in your eyes and his smile falters.

“Princess, do we have a confession?” Empress Gygy asks, quieter and more concerned this time.

Your eyes are cast to the floor and you set your jaw. “I’m sorry,” you hush, more for Jiang than anyone else. “Kylo did not confess anything.”

The emperor and empress look to their son. “Jiang, this means you lied?” Gygy lilted in disbelief. Jiang doesn’t acknowledge them, only staring you down with hurt in his eyes.

“I had a private audience with the princess where I warned her of the prince’s plot,” Kylo starts loudly. “He confessed to me that he cared deeply for her and I figured he was trying to take me out of the picture. He murdered that woman in an attempt to frame me, so he could have her to himself. Your prince doesn’t care about what happens to your planet, he only cares about the princess’s skirts.”

“How dare you!” Jaing snarls, his fingers curling into his palms.

“That can’t be true!” you cry out, “Prince Jaing could never hurt anyone. He’s kind, and gentle, and compassionate!” You wrinkle your nose. “Admit you did it, that you threw another tantrum and hurt someone because you were just jealous!”

Kylo scoffs. “Jealous? Of what, his hair care routine?”

“Of her affections for me,” Jaing sneers, “you wish she felt for you as she does for me.”

“I couldn’t care less what she thinks of me. I didn’t ask to marry her!” Kylo spits.

“Then you shouldn’t care if I kissed her now!” Jaing roared.

You blink and before you can react, Jaing turns to you and pulls you towards him, an arm around your waist. “Wait!” you squeak out before his lips smash against yours, his hand on the back of your neck keeping you from escaping. The court gasps and Emperor Teosu stands abruptly, the empress yelling her sons name. You squirm, squeezing your eyes shut and pushing at his shoulders. He moves his lips against yours hungrily and you turn your head to escape him, before delivering a sharp slap across his cheek. “Stop it!” you yell, struggling in his grip. He looks stunned for a moment, but he breaks into blubbering.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” he coos, still holding you close to him, his grip tightening around your waist.

“Jaing, enough!” the empress commands.

You struggle to release yourself from his grip as he babbled on. He was frightening you.

“I’m sorry, I only wanted us to be together, I want you to be happy, he can’t give you that, I’ve missed you, I wanted us to be together,” he whines.

You stop. “Jaing… what do you mean by that,” you murmur.

He, too, pauses, taking a gulp.

“My son, please,” the empress begs, gently stepping down the dais.

“We could’ve been happy, if you had… just…” he’s searching for words, and you shake your head in disbelief.

“Don’t say it,” you warn, wishing he wouldn’t continue.

“I was afraid he would’ve hurt you, I had to help you, I… I didn’t…” he trails off and you wretch yourself from his grasp. The empress has her hand folded over her mouth, eyes wide, while the courtroom is silent.

“What did you do, Prince Jaing,” Kylo flatly asks.

The prince spins around to seethe at Kylo. “You still deserve death, scum,” he hisses.

You whisper his name and he faces you with a doey expression. “What did you do?” you barely audit.

He blinks at you, sad and desperate. “It was love,” he whispers and your reality shatters. “I did it for love, I did it for  _ us _ . Would you have left with me yesterday, had your oppressor not come forward? You can still be free from him, we can go far away.”

“Guards,” Teosu utters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Two immediately step forward and take a hold of Jaing’s arms, beginning to drag him out the room. He goes without much fuss, but calls your name frantically once dragged through the doorway.

“Court dismissed,” Teosu strains, stepping down to meet his wife. “And release the Commander,” he adds begrudgingly. Gygy is crying silently and Teosu shuffles her out with the rest of the stricken courtiers.

Your gaze is cast to the floor and you don’t have the energy to move. You hear the guards release Kylo’s restraints and they leave without a word. You numbly notice him stride to you. You wait for him to speak, and he takes in a breath, but holds it. It catches in his throat and he sighs.

“I’ll call for a transporter,” he decides, before turning and leaving you alone in the throne room.

 

 

* * *

 

It’s late into the night when you board the early transporter, and you’re still quiet since the trial. You absently gaze out the window, cheek resting on your palm, tired. Kylo joins you in the small lounge deck, settling himself into the leather booth opposite you. He folds his hands on top of the table and a long silence stretches between the two of you.

You felt like the worst judge of character, like the worst person to ever exist. You felt duped, and cheated. You were a syllable away from sending Kylo to his death, aiding a criminal, and starting a war to ruin your childhood. For a moment in time, you had been so convinced by Jaing’s honeyed gaze that everything would be alright, that you ignore the suffering you caused. It made you sick to think like that, made you sick that Jaing could tolerate that, plan it.

Kylo was trying to find the words to say and had been since the prince’s arrest. Your quiet attitude had him at a loss, even though he desperately wanted to boast about his predictions with Jaing. He’d never seen you looking so sad and lost. At least when you were angry or annoyed, you had some spark of life in your eyes. This was just pitiful.

He gulped, taking a deep breath for the third time, before letting it rush back out, useless. Perhaps he was thinking about this too hard. He should say the first thing that comes to mind. Steadying himself, he looks at her and tries. The worst words come out.

“I’m sorr-” he pulls back in just in time, pressing his lips together, but you acknowledge him.

“What?” you ask quietly, a glimmer in your eye.

“Nothing. Forget about it,” he hurries, turning his attention out the window.

“No, no, please. What were you going to say?” you implore, and he observes the change in your demeanor. He takes a breath before complying.

“I’m sorry,” he admits quietly, avoiding your gaze and keeping his attentions out the window.

You don’t know why it intrigues you so much to hear his apology. Perhaps because it’s the first time you’re seeing any remorse from him. It’s completely unexpected, but you’d rather encourage it, like a toddler taking their first steps.

“About what?” you ask excitedly.

He shoots you a look and you recognize how it might’ve sounded childish but your waiting, searching.

Kylo sighs and drums his thumb on the table. He tilts his jaw and sucks at his cheek, deliberating his words carefully. He’s uncomfortable with things like this. He doesn’t know why he’s apologizing, he didn’t murder anyone or spoil the trip. But he remembers the morning, where you looked so peaceful and attempted to speak to him. He hadn’t been in a great mood, having fallen deeper into confliction upon waking up next to you, legs tangled and your nose pressed against his back. He attempted to steady himself with breakfast in the garden space, but you woke soon after him and spoke to him without disdain, and it confused him further. He’d been defensive, and when you left he felt like an idiot.

After a week of despising each other, you had suddenly flipped the tables on him. How could he expect you to be civil, even for a moment? He knew he had ruined that. Jaing had been a further annoyance and he would never admit that his outburst was of jealousy, but he felt it in his heart. He felt it burn him up inside to see your hands intertwined so delicately, to see you so enraptured with this stranger. He was your husband, wasn’t he? He deserved to be looked at that way, not some random rat, some polished sewer urchin. This man who clearly made her happy, who she so obviously held dear.

_ ‘You could never bring her the happiness she deserves,’  _ echoes Jaing’s words.

Kylo believed him. This marriage was a literal punishment, meant to capture an objective, a planet filled with gems. The princess was a convenient side effect, being insufferably uptight and source of training. He wasn’t meant to make her happy, but he was coming to realize that the opposite was worse.

He had wanted to hit her when she struck him. He wanted to retaliate so bad. No one had dared strike him in the Order unless they expected death soon after. Fear was the way people respected him, the way that he could control them. But when he saw how much he terrified her, the tears in her panicked eyes as she held back a sob, he didn’t feel in control. He didn’t feel stronger. He felt like a monster.

“I truly ruined everything,” he says softly. He startles as he realizes that was said out loud and glances over at you. Strangely enough, you look almost disappointed. Confused, he clears his throat and gazes back out the window. What kind of answer did you want to hear? Was that not remorseful enough?

_ This was so embarrassing.  _ He’d better just return to formality.

“Our mission was to recuperate,” he elaborates, “I fought it every step. I failed.”

He glances back over for your reaction and now you truly look disappointed. He curses himself.

“Oh,” you reply quietly, then shift your gaze to stare outside absently.

_ Damn it.  _ What did you want from him?! What could he possibly say to make it better?! There isn’t anything he can say to fix this. ‘Sorry that you decided not to be an adulterer and runaway with an obsessive murderer, I know that was a really tough decision’?

He grits his teeth and holds back a sharp exhale, wringing his hands together. Again, he feels defeated.

You’re not sure what you were waiting for, either. Maybe that he was showing a bit of humanity for once, but then slipped back into formality. He felt warmer for a moment, dropping his cold and deflective demeanor to sound considerate. This was just a mission to him, though, an objective to accomplish. You were disappointed. You wanted more than that.

_ ‘What do you want from him?’  _ a voice inside asks.

You flick your gaze back to Kylo. He’s focused on something far away, his thick brows angled and a thoughtful scowl across his mouth. There’s something boiling behind his dark eyes. You wonder if there’s any peace inside him. You think it must be grating, being the Commander of the First Order, training himself to be in a constant state of anger and frustration, all to climb higher, more powerful. It sounded like an endless struggle.

‘ _ Peace,’ _ you answer back. ‘ _ I hope he finds peace.’ _

Maybe then you both could…

You shake the notion from you mind. There was an unusual handsomeness to his features, but you both were too different. You would not come to care for him. Studying his jawline, you wonder if he cared for you, deep down. Why else would he have made such a fuss with Jaing?

You dismiss it as possessiveness, but you recognize that you hardly know this man. His motives could be far more complex than you could imagine. And perhaps, below his irritable shell, he was more complex than you knew.

These thoughts were uncomfortable, and you decide to dispel them from your mind, taking a breath as you release them.

_ “Those on deck, prepare for departure,”  _ the intercom buzzed, and the engines of the transporters rumbled to life.

An emptiness takes you as the planet becomes smaller and the ship exits the atmosphere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas, it was not meant to be. I think we were all a little tired of Jaing, though ;( next chapter is currently being written, and already has some romantic tension that I'll build on. This chapter was supposed to be an attempt at a murder mystery kind of theme, but I've never done that kind of thing before... and won't again, haha. Tell me what you think might happen in the next chapter, or what you hope to see!
> 
> A) I hope to see more action, I enjoyed it in the first few chapters  
> B) I'm hoping for a romantic confession  
> C) I'm open to seeing more plot development and how this all affects the war  
> D) I'm hoping to see more familiar characters, like Poe or Leia


	8. A Discovery

The ride to the cruiser is silent, not another word spoken between you and Kylo. When you land in the flight deck, you instantly crave a shower and the warmth of your bedsheets. Kylo walks with you to your shared room. When you arrive, you gather some clothes and head into the refresher. Kylo takes a seat on the sofa, running a hand through his hair.

 

He’d had a lot of time to think on the way here. He thought about what the princess wanted, what he wanted, if they could be the same. Though, this was his punishment. He had to take advantage of it; that’s what Snoke wanted for him. Wasn’t it?

 

He sighed roughly, pinching the bridge of his nose. All the bickering he engaged in with her didn’t feel like power, it drained him. He would have to talk with Snoke. He needed help from his master.

 

 _‘The Supreme Leader is wise. His motives may not be clear, but he knows what is best,’_ he reminds himself.

 

On the coffee table is a short stack of paperwork, and he leans forward to shuffle through the reports boredly. Report, report, report, report, meeting schedules, places of interests, report, inquiry, report, report, report. He didn’t feel like reading them. He shuffles through half the stack before a medical evaluation catches his eye. He pulls the documents out of the pile, finding it to be the results of both yours and his bloodwork. His attentions turn to your results first.

 

The doctor’s notes at the top box summarize the readings as normal and healthy. He wishes you a peaceful recovery and has jotted down his number for emergencies. Kylo shifts through the data. He vaguely realizes this is a complete breach of privacy, but he dismisses the idea. Everything seems normal, though he isn’t a doctor, and he’s about to switch his focus to his own bloodwork when he stumbles over a single line.

 

_“Midichlorian count: approx. 10,150 pc”._

 

He runs his gaze across the numbers again. _“10,150 pc”._ 10,000 per cell.

 

She held a connection to the Force.

 

 His own read close to 13,000 and he hadn’t felt any connection to the Force within her. Snoke would’ve felt it. Is this what he’d been planning? Was this to be a test to Kylo’s connection with the Force? Had he failed already?

 

He shakes his head, crumbling the lab results in his fist.

 

No, this had to be a mistake. The princess had shown no signs of Force ability, and it was unlikely that she was able to mask her imprint in the Force. If this was to be true, that she was Force-sensitive, he had to alert Snoke.

 

He thought about how the Supreme Leader might react, what he might do. She would never do well under any training, and he couldn’t imagine she’d be asset. Kylo decided then that it wouldn’t matter. Still, he couldn’t help his curiosity. Perhaps, if he reached out, or delved into her mind, maybe a memory would surface, a clue to her abilities. Did she even know of her potential?

 

The door to the refresher slides open and you waltz out in those damning silk pajamas, fluffing your hair with a towel. You walk towards the bed and he acknowledges the span rising span of your thighs before turning back to his paperwork, clenching his jaw.

 

_“Midichlorian count: approx. 10,150 pc”._

 

He looks back over his shoulder at you. You’re settling yourself into the pillows with a book that doesn’t look to belong to his collection. Your knees are drawn up to rest the novel against your thighs and he’s never seen an equal to the curvature. Cursing, he instead focuses on reaching out curiously through the Force. But there isn’t anything there. Not a glimmer of hope, or the heaviness of the dark side in your imprint. Just the natural energy from all living things. He presses a bit harder, for there must be something there. If she held any ability, he would find it, pull it out from her. He dipped into her conscious, and from it pulled the scene she currently imagined. A countess fans herself as she rests on a bench in a rosy garden, her exposed ankle lifted into a handsome gentleman's lap, where he rubs her ankle with a clever smile and whispers flirtations. A spike of annoyance rings through the imagination and he’s suddenly slammed out her mind.

 

Your knees fall apart, your book pressing into your chest as a glower takes over your face.

 

“Get out of my head,” you demand flatly, but Kylo is focusing on the way your open legs look rather inviting.

 

He gulps hard before turning away, realizing he’s staring.

 

Would she ever cease the torment? Regularly, she donned full length dresses with tasteful necklines but during bedtime she had to dress in scraps? Damn her, she did this on purpose, didn’t she?

 

“What was with that look?” she calls, but he ignores her. Standing abruptly, he flits into the refresher for a cold shower.

 

Blasting the water, he strips and tries to forget about a growing issue. Leaning over the sink, he rubs cold water into his skin. He steadies his breath as he grips the basin, looking up into the mirror to watch droplets dibble down his miserable expression. How dare she. She _must_ hate him, so casually exposing her long legs. It was torture, he was meant to despise her, not lust after her sparse choice of sleepwear. He pounded his fist against the counter before tossing himself into the freezing shower. It solved a larger problem instantly, and his shivering muscles and raised skin lead to a satisfactory distraction. His arms were drawn around himself, shivering as the spray drenched his hair and flowed down his spine. If he could flush out these feelings, then he could avoid imagining her winding her arms around his waist, pressing in from behind.

 

He turns and bangs his head into the tile, grinding his throbbing forehead into the wet ceramic. He allowed this torture on himself, it was clear he wasn’t avoiding anything. Maybe he was just starved, as female uniforms weren’t very flattering, and he avoided distractions anyways. The cold was starting to numb his skin. He sighed, and reluctantly reached over to turn the water to a warmer temperature.

 

When you had heard the banging in the refresher, you were worried he might’ve slipped or something, but his shower seemed to continue without any other issue, so you immersed yourself back into your novel, _The Countess of the Stars._

 

When the countess’s lover discovered his sister to be murdered, Kylo emerged from the refresher, towel around his hips and hair dripping water onto the floor. He strode to the dresser and slipped on a pair of briefs and a tank. He caught your attention when he neared the bed and flipped the covers off without giving you a second glance. He climbed underneath the linens and then yanked them up to his chin, flipping on his side to face away from you. Your novel pauses as you look at him ludicrously.

 

“I’m sleeping in the bed tonight,” he gruffs.

 

You squint. “... aaalllright,” you acknowledge, before going back to your novel. Strange that he felt the need to say that, almost like he expected you to go and sleep on the couch. Strange that he forgot you were too spiteful for that. There’s was no reason you two couldn’t just share the king-sized mattress. Last time went uneventfully, and that couch held no lumbar support. So, you stayed, and continue with the plot of the countess’s lover’s sister’s murderer.

 

“Lights off,” Kylo ordered, and the ceiling dimmed into submission.

 

You make an offended noise and smack his shoulder with your book. “Hey!” you whine.

 

He leans over his shoulder. “Don’t hit me,” he growls.

 

You narrow your eyes, and defiantly bring the book down on his shoulder again, albeit with much less malice from his warning.

 

He sits up on his hip and glares at you, before snatching the novel from your grip and tossing it across the room. You gape at him and he settles back down with a huff. “Go to sleep,” he orders. You fill with hot air for a rebuttal.

 

“You’re… such a child,” you grimace. He makes no response, and you sigh irately, before begrudgingly pulling yourself under the covers. You suppose you can finish your story in the morning.

 

 

* * *

 

 

You’re sleeping peacefully, quiet and warm, but something's wrong. You’re being stirred from your rest by the horn of an alarm and a flashing red signal light. You bury your nose deeper into Kylo’s back, groaning at the disturbance. Upon realizing the alarm, Kylo bolts up.

 

“Something’s wrong,” he mumbles, before quickly staggering out of the covers, leaving you cold.

 

“Is it a fire or something?” you slur, pulling the covers back up.

 

“No, this is different- hey! Get up!” he demands, tossing some clothes at you. It startles you awake, and you pull two pairs of black slacks off your face.

 

“What am I supposed to do with these?” you grumble.

 

“Get dressed, are you dull?” Kylo already has his pants buttoned and socks on. He must’ve done this before.

 

You rub your eyes of sleep and sit up. “What’s going on?” you ask groggily, fooling with the slacks.

 

“I’m not sure,” Kylo admits, grabbing his saber and hooking it onto the belt of his pants. “I’m going to go see-”

 

The ship rumbles and it sends a chill up your spine. You freeze, afraid. Kylo whips around.

 

“Stay here, I’m heading to the flight dec-”

 

The ship shakes violently and the gravity inside shifts. You get tossed onto the floor and Kylo stumbles at the shift, before the room returns to normal. Another siren starts blaring, louder than the other one, more urgent. A voice takes over the intercom.

 

_“Attention, The Victory is under assault from Resistance forces, all pilots report to the flig-”_

 

The voice is cut by another aggressive tremor and Kylo is dragging you to your feet, shoving your slippers and a pair of trousers into your arms. Then, he’s pulling you out of the room, his grip tight on your arm.

 

“You’re going to get into an evac pod and program it to auto fly to code 1-1-5-3-9-8-0-2-6, that should get you to the safest base. I’m going to the flight deck,” he instructs, and you race to keep up with him.

 

“We’re under attack?!” you squeak.

 

“That’s what the alarms mean,” he hums in annoyance.

 

You both race through the halls until you find a room with multiple pod entrances. No one else is there. A thunderous crash tosses you both to the floor, the sound of metal crunching sounding the sudden suction of air. You dimly hear the screech of fighter pilots outside, noticing the thinness of the air. The door to the room slams closed with a loud blare.

 

“ _Air lock initiated, please evacuate immediately,”_ tones a calm voice on the speakers.

 

Kylo curses as he rises to his feet. He helps you off the floor and shuffles you both into the closest pod. It’s an oval shaped ship with white walls and gray tiles. On one side is a collection of drawers labeled with gear and supplies, the other side holding a large control panel. At the end is the pilots control and Kylo immediately sits into the leather chair bolted to the floor.

 

“Strap in,” he gruffs, and you find a seat attached to the wall beside the drawers. The ship takes a heavy succession of hits as he flips toggles and powers up the control board. You fiddle with your X-style seatbelt as he prepares for launch, and the door slides closed as the pod powers up. Soon enough, metal clanks outside and the pod floats from its slot, where it then shoots off from the ship.

 

You’re jerked against your restraints and the shrills of energy blasts cry around you. You’re not sure what’s going on, only seeing out the small, front windshield. There’s a small system of planets far in the distance, you wonder if any X-wing fighters will notice the two of you. Oh, moons above, you don’t want to think about exploding into space dust.

 

“Will we be safe?” you ask, trying to stay calm. Kylo makes no reply, too concerned with keeping you both alive. It only stokes the flames of your anxiety, and you lean your head back and close your eyes, taking deep breaths. Another cry of laser blasts and you grip the belts holding you steady.

 

_‘Don’t think about it, it’s going to be fine, you’ll be fine, Kylo is a legendary pilot… when he’s in a fighter with guns. Oh, moons, this little pod didn’t stand a chance.’_

 

“Does this pod have hyperspeed of something?” you ask in a shriller voice.

 

“No, but we can make it. The closest system is only half a lightyear away. We just need to avoid drawing attention,” Kylo states.

 

“And if we don’t?” you ask. He looks over for a fraction of second, but turns back and shakes his head.

 

“Don’t let fear make you weak. There’s no reason they would attack us with the TIE fighters diverting their attention,” he scolds.

 

The pod rumbles and an x-wing flies over ahead, dodging in front of the speeding pod. Kylo leans into the window to watch it soar back around.

 

“Kylo…” you say softly.

 

He grimaces and settles back in his seat. “I saw him,” he agrees, looking annoyed rather than worried. His grip tightens on the steering con. “I hope you’re fastened in,” he adds. You promptly begin to tighten all the straps of your harness, hands fumbling with the belts.

 

For now, it’s a waiting game. Your brace yourself for the inevitable lurch of the pod, but it never comes. You wait, knees knocking together and knuckles turning white, for the impact of the laser cannons, fear gurgling in your throat. The pod is speeding along smoothly, and the cabin is silent with only the white noise of the thrusters reverberating through your seat. Confused, you look to Kylo. He stares down at the radius radar intently, looking perturbed as well.

 

“They’re waiting,” he says to himself, glancing up to check the distance until the system. “We’re less than a quarter lightyear until the system. Why would they wait?” he worries absently.

 

You don’t understand it either and sit forward to try and read the radar over Kylo’s shoulder. The green pod lies in the center, while an “X” blinks on the lower part of the screen. It doesn’t move closer or drift further back. It follows at a perfect distance, looming steadily behind. It makes you anxious and you scour your brain, looking for an answer. Any conclusion seems unlikely, as the Resistance couldn’t know exactly who was on this escape pod. You doubt they’d take any chances. Perhaps, they knew you were on board.

 

“We’re entering the outer ring of the system. There’s a planet ahead called Ojarlia, with recognized life,” Kylo whispers. You figure he’s nervous about the pilot as well.

 

You wait with bated breath, glancing between the small green planet ahead and the small green X on the radar. Still, it follows silently. Your skin prickles. Soon, you’re nearing Ojarlia’s atmosphere, and you begin to intrude into the blue bubble of gases. The pod shakes under the sudden pressure on the cabin, the hull heating outside as it rockets through the planets barrier. The X-wing follows close behind. The pod swoops down to the surface, and as the vast, green continent turns quickly into large, rounded mountains, Kylo pulls up and your stomach dips as the speed and gravity adjust. The planet’s surface has many tall mountains, in between which, rest ponds and rivers with waterfalls. The tips of the mountains are settled with thin clouds of mist, and Kylo directs himself there to avoid the fighter. You’re amazed how after a moment, the radar shows the X-wing drift back, and lose the pod.

 

You let out a heavy sigh, settling comfortably in your seat as a wave of euphoric relief hits you. You grin nervously at Kylo, who still looks on edge. “Are we safe then?” you ask gently.

 

His eyes scan forward. “I’m not sure. They’re off the radar, but I can’t see anything through this mist,” he mumbles. He blows out his cheeks before leaning back into his chair, hands still gripping tight to the steering. “I just don’t know why they would follow us here, this place isn’t-”

 

A short succession of beeping from the dash is followed by a strike to the pod. It pitches the ship sideways and you know you’re falling. The crunch of metal accompanies the battering against the hull, and you’re tossed towards the front of the cabin in your restraints. The pod bounces with a thunderous crash and flips, plowing through the surface flora and it rumbles across the earth until it yanks to a stop. The front folds with a screech and the glass shield pops.

 

You feel the ship is settled in its crash and try to regain some consciousness. Blinking the spots from your vision relieves your blindness, but your eyes swirl at a dizzying pace. Your chest tries to pull air back in and your ribs ache at the attempts, but eventually allow inflation.

 

“Kylo,” you call out immediately.

 

You hear him grunt somewhere on the floor- roof?- of the cabin and try to follow the noise with your dizzy vision. You spot his phantom figures lying on his back against the floor, struggling to regain his breath as you are. His ghosts spin around the cabin as he rolls to his side and clutches the wall. His feet shift underneath his frame and climbs up to lean himself heavily against the hull. His figures converge slowly as he catches his breath, holding onto his shoulder with bloody fingers. He’s littered with small cuts and scratches over his exposed arms and face.

 

There’s a certain pressure filling your face as your hair hangs away from your body. You look up at the floor where your arms swing by your ears. You’ve noticed you’re still strapped in, upside down and attached to the wall of the hull. You look up at Kylo as your mind and vision straighten. Shaking the remaining fuzziness from your head, you give him a desperate look.

 

“Help,” you plea.

 

He stares blankly for a moment, seemingly caught up in the low, distant beeping from the console and the pitter of rain against the hull, but stumbles forward to fulfill your request. He reaches for the buckle and it occurs to you, as his fingers grasp the latch, your precarious position.

 

“Wait!Wait!Wai-”

 

The straps fall loose and you plummet dramatically to the floor, smashing your cheek and shoulder into the glass littered hull, and your legs flop over your head. Tears prick your eyes as you feel the sharp pinch against your bare skin. You wish you had the foresight to put on something more decent.

 

“ _Oww_ ,” you whimper, and begin to orient yourself upright without any more disturbance to the glass.

 

“Oh… sorry,” Kylo mutters, but is soon distracted with the entrance hatch, which has been split open in the crash. The two doors are slanted away from each other, wedged apart in their tracks. Kylo’s right arm hangs limply by his side and he uses his other to push one of the doors further back into its track within the hull. It groans in protest and he leans his weight against it to submit it to his force.

 

Outside, a steady drizzle falls against the forest floor and the smell of wet bark seeps into the cabin. Kylo places a supporting hand back onto his shoulder and steps out into the wilderness. You feel your sense of safety leave with him and you move to stand but feel a sharp twinge in your shoulder. Turning your head, you gasp at the small shard sticking out from your skin. Horrified, you reach for it, fingers trembling as you grasp the fragment and wincing at the pang as it slides from your flesh. You quickly drop the offensive shard, turning away with a gag.

 

Your bare legs and arms prompt you to find your borrowed trousers and your slippers in opposite corner of the pod. Brushing the glass bits out of the toes, you slide the sapphire satin shoes onto your feet, and then pull yourself into the large pair of slate pants. They settle low on your hips and fold around your ankles; they are entirely too big. You pull them up around your waist and gather the fabric with a fist, before swiping Kylo’s saber off the floor and heading out after him.

 

You step out and rain falls delicately onto your shoulders. Tall, thick trunks ascend into a thick, bright green canopy above, where the calls of frantic birds float down in a hectic symphony. The floor is covered in a thick layer of colorful, spongy moss and wide leaved ferns, at least where the pod hadn’t carved out a valley of dark soil and broken trees. Kylo stands to the side of the damaged forest, examining the ship with a grim expression. You step up beside him, noticing his shoulder at an odd angle.

 

“Your shoulder,” you fret to him.

 

He sighs through his nose. “Displaced,” he admits, before looking down at you. His eyes notice the saber in your hand. He holds out his hand and you submit the weapon back to him.

 

You both look back to the pod. It’s in terrible shape. The metal surface is riddled with dings and dents, the silver paint scratched off the sides revealing black underneath. The windows are smashed and the wings ripped off. The front is buried into a grand tree, its roots digging into the metal hull. Kylo raises his saber to gesture at the ruined pod.

 

“We won’t be able to leave on that,” he states.

 

“Probably not,” you agree with a sigh. “Will we be rescued?”

 

“I’m sure of it,” Kylo assures, before turning to a fallen tree and hooking his saber to his belt. He sits himself down on the trunk and grasps at his shoulder, looking up at you.

 

“Come help me with this first,” he says, holding onto his limp appendage.

 

Your eyes widen and you give him an incredulous look. “You mean with-...” you point to his shoulder, “-that?” you attempt to clarify. You’d never done anything medical before.

 

He nods. “I’ll tell you how to pop it back. You shouldn’t worry,” he responds. Your eyes widen more. Your stomach drops and you gulp.

 

“Kylo, I can’t. I’ve never-”

 

He holds up a hand and interrupts. “I know, I know. But this needs to happen, and you need to trust me. I can’t use this arm until it’s relocated, and it will be less painful once it’s back in place.”

 

You take a tentative step forward. “You’re in pain?” you ask worriedly.

 

He instantly looks annoyed and opens his mouth for a remark, but quickly closes it and his eyes, letting out a sharp exhale through his nose. He opens his eyes again and gestures for you.

 

“Come here,” he says, more gently than you’d anticipated. Admittedly, it was an embarrassing thing for you to say.

 

You promptly sit next to him, hands folded stiffly in your lap. You give him your full attention as he begins to explain the process.

 

“-and then, keeping a strong hold on my arm, you’ll rotate my wrist back towards my chest. It’ll pop, when it’s relocated,” he elucidates.

 

You nod, taking a deep breath. “Okay,” you reply meekly.

 

“You won’t hurt me, just try not to force anything,” he assures, but his comforts don’t reach you.

 

Gingerly, you take his wrist and use your other hand to gently guide his elbow against his waist. Your fingers are timid against the hard muscle as you position his arm as Kylo explained.

 

“Good, next step,” he encourages.

 

Your teeth clench as you move your hand up to his bicep and squeeze for the bone underneath, the thick muscle there giving resistance. Gently, you pull his wrist towards your body into the proper angle. Your other hand uses your grip on his arm to rotate the arm into a forward position.

 

Kylo breathes in sharply and you freeze. “Did I hurt you?!” you ask frantically.

 

“No, no,” he denies just as quickly, aiming to keep you calm, “you’re doing good. Keep going.”

 

You press your lips back together and look back to your work. You just needed to keep his arm stable while you rotated his forearm back to his body, but the way the joint of his shoulder protruded gorishly paralyzed you. What if you made it worse? What if he ended up in more pain? You look back to Kylo with a franticness.

 

“I can’t do this,” you whimper, beginning to tremble.

 

“Yes, you can,” Kylo replies confidently, “you’re the only one who can do this right now. Don’t be afraid, you can’t hurt me.”

 

“But what if I do? What if I mess it up and you can’t ever use your arm?” you worry.

 

Kylo tilts his head. “Then we’re no worse off than we are now,” he reasons.

 

You sigh and glance back at the bump, stretching against the confines of his skin. He brings his other hand up to cover your fingers about his wrist, and you look at him in surprise. There’s something that easily comforts you in his dark brown eyes.

 

“We can do this,” he says softly.

 

 _We._ It echoes in your mind. And you believe him.

 

You take a deep breath, steady yourself, and begin to guide his wrist back to his chest. The joint in his shoulder shifts as slowly as his arm does, Kylo’s hand over yours as it guides itself back to a proper position. With a grunt from Kylo, there’s a low pop, sounding your success. Your lips part and you look to Kylo in amazement. He gives you the smallest of smiles.

 

“You did it,” he whispers.

 

You almost correct him- _we_ did it- but it won’t leave your throat. For a just moment, for a fraction of time, you’re caught up in the rarest occurrence in the universe. The man in front of you is startling different from the cold, dark, ruthless man you married. There’s a kind pride in his warm eyes and this smile isn’t a smirk that just followed an insult. It’s soft and meant to comfort. Before you can soak it in, though, he breaks the eye contact to watch his fingers curl into his palm.

 

“That’s better,” he says to himself. “We should check our provisions, set up some semblance of a camp, scout the area.”

 

He looks back up at you, and the warmth is gone, returning you back to reality. This was Kylo Ren, ruthless Commander of The First Order, a man with blood on his hands. You forget his demeanor from moments ago, reminding yourself of his true nature.

 

“You’ll check the pod, I’ll look around. Scream if you need anything,” he orders, not waiting for your agreement before he stands and stalks off into the woods. You watch him go and sigh, wistful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always wear a seatbelt and don't attempt to relocate your arm without professional medical attention. This was a very general summary of a specific shoulder relocation method and should not be attempted! Phew, now with that out of the way, ho boy, I'm dedicated to this thing now. I think I have more fun writing action and there will be more to come in the following chapters. I reeeeally wanted there to be more to this chapter but it would've been an extra 2,000 words for the development I was considering, so it had to stop short! Long chapters are really exhausting to edit, so I'm going to cap most of these chapters about 4000-5000 words. You guys should be excited for the next chapter, though ;) Also tell me what you think about the new discovery!
> 
> A.) Reader having Force abilities was expected but I don't mind.  
> B.) It would've been nice to have a reader without connection to the Force for a change. It's cliche at this point.  
> C.) KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS  
> D.) Kylo's characterization isn't believable  
> E.) Kylo's motives and feelings seem natural to the canon character to me


	9. Heat of the Jungle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, its 2 am, i'm very tired and won't proof read until tomorrow, so if you see a mistake, feel free to point it out -thumbs up-

You don’t camp at the pod but rather pack up and head into the woods. For the first hour of your hike, the scenery was lush and vibrant, and you enjoyed the warm climate and cooling mist that drifted down from the canopy to settle on your skin. The shrills and calls of exotic birds, high in the branches, provided a beautiful melody. However, the roots buried into the rich soil began to catch your feet, the buzzing of bugs in your ear perturbed you, the heat and moisture created an unsavory, sticky sheen across your skin, and your feet ached inside your unsupportive satin shoes, which were now covered in bits of mud and green debris.

 

After tolerating your complaints and woes for all of 2 miles, Kylo had irately agreed to camp on the bank of a narrow river, where a small dirt clearing allowed room for a tent. With sharp movements, he wrestled with the fluorescent tent and you stood back to watch him. You’re pleased that the dreadful trek is finished for the day, but the obvious annoyance of Kylo sends a pang of shame through you. You feel you’d been unreasonably fussy.

 

Kylo avoids conversation. He’s leaned against the trunk of a tree, watching the river as he munches on some type of jerky. You feel a little guilty about your complaining. Contemplating if an apology is necessary, you absently nibble some dried fruit and watch him pensively. He rips into another piece of jerky, seemingly distracted until he sighs and turns to you with an irked expression

 

“Alright, what?” he quips, surprising you.

 

You press your lips together, looking down. You hadn’t meant to stare, but it prompted your apology anyways. It couldn’t hurt. “I... just wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to annoy you,” you admit, bringing your gaze up. “I’m not really used to hiking through hard terrain, and I realize my complaints were not helpful or progressive.”

 

He considers it for a moment, silent and stern, then turns back to view the river, taking a bite into his meal.  “It’s fine,” he says curtly, around the gruel in his mouth.

 

His tone doesn’t satisfy you. “Are you sure?” you prompt pensively.

 

“Yes,” he replies, casting you a sideways glance, “as long as you stop acting like a pampered palace brat.” While his words are offensive, he keeps a casual tone.

 

You scoff at him, scrunching your nose at his comment. “I’m not a brat,” you sharply dismiss, and his lips lift into a quick quirk of a smirk.

 

“No, you’re bratty, girl. You’ve never had a sour day in your ivory castle and the sweetness has spoiled you,” he says very decidedly.

 

You don’t have words, just an offended, open mouthed expression. It’s difficult not to launch into a fest of insults. “Well… I certainly lived there securely,” you decide this is a safe reply. “Before you, I was never marooned, or shot at, or chased after by savage cave monsters, so pardon me if normality spoils a person,” you sniff.

 

Kylo chuffs, tossing aside his jerky with distaste. “And before you, I was a powerful Commander, and everyone was too afraid to try me. I’ve never once been marooned, or had a mission go unexpectedly, until you. You’re quite the black spot, causing more trouble than whatever you were worth to Snoke,” he says flatly.

 

You purse your lips, before turning your gaze down at your meal in your fingers, beginning to pick apart the fibers of the fruit. You’re not sure even _you_ know exactly what Snoke wants with you, or your home for that matter. Your planet was nothing more than a jewel encrusted seascape, which you suppose sounds desirable, but for a war, you can’t imagine a purpose. Perhaps, he’s hoping to build a summer home, _an amusing thought._ But barring the trade of Lunzar’s crystal pearls didn’t connect, unless he aimed to monopolize the gemstone.

 

“I’m not sure exactly what that is,” you sigh thoughtfully, “surely, you’d know better than I would.”

 

He shifts his shoulders against the bark of the tree, then turns his attention to a broken fern leaf on the ground. He plucks it up and fiddles with it in his lap, twisting the fans between his fingers. “I thought I knew,” he begins with a grumble, “but I’m not so sure anymore.”

 

Then, what was the point? Was this purely an economical ploy? If anything, the purchase of every crystal pearl was a terrible strategy. They hardly held any use outside of jewelry making, and they were expensive to acquire. It would’ve been easier to take your family’s mine by force, this marriage only complicated things, and you doubt The Order was aiming to keep their image. You wonder if Kylo would want a separation, if he could convince Snoke to allow the two of you to dissolve your relation.

 

You flick your eyes up to him and are surprised when he’s already looking at you intently. His intense gaze is a bit startling and uncomfortable, and you’re about to voice your distress when he speaks.

 

“Have you ever felt anything from the Force?” he asks harshly.

 

You blink. He sounds upset. “No... I don’t know how I would be able to tell, either.”

 

“A relative, then?” he presses, “your mother or father, they were born with a connection?”

 

You try a noise and shake your head. “No, I haven’t known anyone personally with sensitivity. Why is this coming up-”

 

“I can hardly ever get into your head,” he interrupts, “and I can’t feel your mark on the Force.”

 

You raise a brow. “Perhaps that means, then, that I have no mark?”

 

“But you’re sensitive,” Kylo nods confidently, “I just don’t know why.”

 

You’re skeptical and it shows. With a curled lip and a raised brow, you wonder if he’s caught jungle fever. Not even as an imaginative child, had you thought yourself to hold Force abilities. You can’t help but be dismissive.

 

“I can’t be Force sensitive, I’ve never _been_ Force sensitive,” you reject with finality, looking down and beginning to push the remainder of your unappetizing dehydrated meal into the moist dirt.

 

“Unfortunately, that’s not right. I’ve seen from your charts that your midi-chlorian count is high enough to expect a connection,” he puzzles, looking off with thoughtful expression.

 

Most of the statement was confusing, so you implore for an explanation. “A midi-what?”

 

“It’s a type of cell within in the blood,” Kylo states, rolling his eyes back to you, “if unusually high, it signals a natural connection to, or ease with, the Force. And while yours isn’t-” he tilts his head back and forth, “particularly high, it’s around the average of most Force users.”

 

You pull your brows together, lips parting at the explanation.

 

“Then, shouldn’t I be able to feel it?” you question.

 

Kylo tilts his head back, squinting up at the canopy. “Yes. I should be able to feel it within you; the Supreme Leader would’ve absolutely known… but something is missing...I can’t explain it…”

 

While he contemplates this idea, you draw your knees up to your chest and digest this information. The strength of a Force user lay within you, buried deep inside and well hidden from Snoke, _what a fascinating idea_. You had the power to infiltrate thoughts, control petty objects, influence minds.

 

“So, I’m strong with the Force...” you whisper to yourself. A sense of wonder fills you, a keen moment of fascination, but the flutter of excitement is disturbed by Kylo’s mirthful laughing. You look to see a smile stretched across his mouth as he keeps his eyes skyward, shaking his head slightly.

 

“No,” he hums, “you’re not _strong_ with the Force.”

 

“But, you just said-”

 

“Midi-chlorians determine your familiarity with the Force, not your ability. My connection with the Force comes easily, yet I train for control. With your apparent lack of familiarity, I wouldn’t expect you to go very far,” he explains.

 

You pout. You don’t know why you always feel the need to defy him, perhaps it’s natural at this point. “Perhaps, I could,” you counter meekly, “if I trained very hard.”

 

He finally looks at you again, eyebrow raised at your suggestion. “Is that something you’d want?

 

He prompts you into a thoughtful expression. You’re not sure what you want. Considering you wouldn’t be very strong, putting effort into the endeavor didn’t sound appealing. If you _were_ to train, Snoke would probably order it to follow the path of the dark side, and you didn’t want to become Kylo. You didn’t have any true motives to learn the ways of The Force, like the Jedi did, and you didn’t have the heart to fight a war. Yet, there was something so curious about it, like a mythical creature, or an old legend. Who could you be, with the power of The Force? What could you accomplish? Which path would you be lead down, or rather, to which side would you succumb to?

 

You decided you feared the infamous pull of the dark side. Perhaps, The Force would be too great a power to wield, until you found something you needed it for. But, even then, if tragedy struck, would it be too late to learn?

 

“Don’t be ashamed,” Kylo calls, pulling you from your debate. He shrugs when you look at him, raising his hands and then letting them fall in time with his shoulders. “It’s a part of you, and it calls to you. It’s natural to want something so powerful,” he says.

 

“ _Well…_ ” you start with a worrying grimace, “it’s not power I’m after. I’d rather use it to protect those I love.”

 

Kylo nods. “A fair motive.”

 

It feels like the end of the conversation, and a silence settles in. You rest your chin on your knees and watch the water in the creek, babbling between the crisp banks, bordered by tall, warm trunks. You watch a wide leaf drop from the canopy and land gracefully on the slow current. It floats away gently, bypassing wet branches and mossy rocks.

 

“Would you like to try?” Kylo asks gently, stirring you from the scene.

 

Your head snaps over to him, an innocent wonder in your eyes, lips parted. You give a small nod.

 

His deep brown eyes brighten with amusement at your immediate agreement, a small grin touching the corner of his mouth. “Then, close your eyes,” he instructs.

 

Slowly, you settle yourself, taking a breath and closing your eyes tightly.

 

“Relax,” he says.

 

You attempt to steady your breath, and still your body. You knew the Jedi aimed for peace, so you tried to implement that, focusing on clearing your thoughts and listening for any calming noise.

 

“When you’re ready, make a connection,” Kylo hushes.

 

Your brows dip. “With what?” you ask softly.

 

“With The Force,” he replies simply, “with everything around you. Feel the environment, feel the earth. Become aware of it all, understand it intimately.”

 

It sounded so poetic when he said it. Was that really The Force?

 

You push yourself to become “more aware”, listening to the stream babbling, the warmth of the climate, the moistness of the soil beneath your bum and the trees that dug their roots deep within it. You reached for the life within those trunks, and within the moss and orchids that climbed the wet wood. Peace came with it. You could hear the faint calls from birds above you, felt the weight of the atmosphere against your skin, and became at peace with the freshness of the dewy sod. Could this be The Force? Was this the light side? There was an itch in the back of your mind, faint and disturbing, hiding from your consciousness. It began to wriggle and worm around and slithered into your mind. Your scalp prickles and a chill runs down your spine. You gasp, and feel a defensive wall shove out the intruder. Kylo lets out a grunt when you eject him from your mind, knocking back into the trunk he sat against.

 

You steady yourself, blinking away the fog of meditation, realizing what occurred.

 

“Did you just breach my mind again?” you snark, recalling the familiar itch from previous attempts.

 

“For a moment,” Kylo grunts, moving to sit up properly. You narrow your eyes.

 

“So, it was all a ploy, then?!” you snarl.

 

“Oh, no,” Kylo dismisses, “I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you… until about half way through…”

 

You make a noise of disgust, scrunching your nose. “You’re a brute,” you gruff simply, and he chuckles at that.

 

“I finally made it through. How do you do it, anyways? Your mental barrier is impenetrable,” he implores, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

 

You shrug, making a face. “I don’t do anything,” you admit. “I don’t even think I connected.”

 

He shakes his head, pressing his lips together. “You didn’t,” he confirms.

 

You sigh, a piece of you disappointed with the failure.

 

“That is undeniably strange, though,” Kylo continues, “It takes a great amount of power to block out intrusions of the mind, but you can’t even connect with The Force. Especially, in a place like this,” he looks up, and then out to the river, “Peaceful. Calm. Full of light. I feel it so easily-”

 

“Well, don’t rub it in,” you grumble.

 

“Still…” he trails off. He keeps your gaze, which turns into a stare. His eyes light with wonder, lips parted, head tilted, as if in fascination, like you're a rare oddity. The intensity of it sends a volt of electricity up your spine and you turn away. You’d much rather have him glaring at you, at least you could ignore him. You wonder if he’s noticed your discomfort, and you dart your eyes back up. The wonder-eyed gaze is still on you and you huff, turning away again.

 

“Won’t you please stop looking at me like that?” you mumble, breaking him from his trance.

 

“Like what?” he asks innocently.

 

“Like a piece of meat! I’m a person, not a plum pie!” you exasperate.

 

He dents his brow. “What?”

 

You make a noise, searching for words through your frustration. “Like...I’m an attraction!” you sputter, waving a hand around. Kylo blinks, his jaw slackening.

 

“At a zoo!” you tack on. The stunned look from Kylo drains away and he looks relieved. He lets out a breath. “Oh,” he mutters, “I-”

 

You interrupt him with a sigh, moving to stand. “Never mind,” you wine, stepping over to the streams edge.

 

Bending down, you scoop a puddle of water into your palms and press it into your face. Kylo gulps down the knot in his throat. ‘ _An attraction.’_ An attraction indeed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Supreme Leader Snoke, cratered chin resting against his knuckles, looks down pensively at General Hux, his mind like a storm. General Hux stands as calmly as he can, awaiting his orders. He knows Snoke’s wrath too well.

 

“Any trace of the princess?” Snoke hums.

 

“No, sir,” Hux states, and Snoke hums, flicking his gaze to the floor.

 

“A pity,” he drones, then looks back up. He straightens in his chair, leaning back against the throne. “Take a battalion to the system and comb the planets for life. The commander lives. Retrieve him.”

 

“At once, Supreme Leader,” Hux says, giving a stiff bow, and turning to exit.

 

Snoke reaches out, finds his bond with his pupil. He is alive, strong. _Good._ He will need to be.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Kylo nudges you awake, and you groan as he disturbs you.

 

“It’s daylight, let’s go,” he says. It hardly feels like you’ve slept at all, but you sit up anyways, exhausted even so.

 

“I need more hours,” you whine, scratching your cheek as you pull apart your eyelids. Kylo is crouched in front of you, soaking wet with his pack already on his shoulders, water dripping off his hair and dewing on his skin. You notice the heavy rain that beats against the tent.

 

“I feel the same. I suspect we don’t have many hours of night on this planet,” Kylo says, he sits down by your legs and grabs your pack, which lies on the floor of the tent next to you. He digs through and produces a protein bar, handing it to you as you stretch your arms above your head, yawning. Finishing your stretch, you lazily take the bar and begin to unwrap it.

 

Kylo places your heavy pack in your lap before you can even take a bite, then stands and ducks out of the tent. “I’m taking down this tent with or without you in it,” he calls from outside. You roll your eyes and take a bite of your breakfast. Its grainy, with chunks of dried fruit, and a sweet protein coating. You scrunch your nose at the flavor and look at the package for ingredients, pulling a strap of your pack over your shoulder.

 

You shuffle out of the tent, noticing Kylo is indeed already pulling up the stakes, and the rain begins to settle into your clothes. It dampens your hair and drips off your fingers, and you find yourself more awake. You’re thankful to find it’s a warm rain.

 

“We could stay here,” you suggest over the noise of the downpour.

 

Kylo glances at you and shakes his head, droplets falling off his nose. “We should find a clearing. A rescue squad won’t be able to find us in the thickness of this jungle.”

 

His plan sounds optimal, so you don’t make a reply. You look up into the canopy, blinking against the fat droplets that hit your cheeks, your nose, your brow. _You’ll have to hike in_ this _weather?_ Sighing, you look around for a drier spot, going over to a tree to lean against the rough trunk.

 

You chew absently as you watch Kylo unpitch the tent, pull stakes from the ground, and dismantle the rods. You notice he’s slightly favoring his right arm, a large yellow and purple bruise now formed over his shoulder and stretching into his chest. The ugly mark is hidden mostly by the strap of Kylo’s tank, but as he folds the tarp, you can tell by the gingerly way he moves that it’s painful. The cuts from yesterday still litter his strong arms, and trail across his chest and you wonder if they hurt too.

 

The rain runs down his back, the soaked white cotton fabric sticking to the taut muscle underneath. As he works, his shoulder blades rise and fall, the skin pulling tight over the plains of his strength. You don’t notice the goosebumps that rise to your skin, as you watch the motion of his sharp collar bones, the contraction of his bicep that bulges handsomely, the strength in his square hands, or the glimpse of his strong chest down his shirt when he bends forward. He’s shoving everything back into its proper bag, when he looks up at you. His dark hair clings to his cheeks and frames his deep, sweet eyes.

 

 _‘Handsome,’_ you think to yourself.

 

You realize you’re staring and avert your heated gaze, taking a shaky breath before you stuff your food into your mouth. Chewing rapidly, you hope you look busy, unconcerned, but your skin tingles. _What was the matter with you? Ogling at him like that, he’d start to get the wrong idea._

 

Kylo finally looks away, taking the tent bag into his pack and standing, beginning to walk towards you. Your heart jumps in your throat as he nears, but he paces past you, walking down the bank of the river. “Let’s go,” he calls back.

 

After a moment, you let out your breath, thank your lucky stars, and follow after him.

 

You try to focus on something else during your continuation through the jungle, to distract your mind from lingering on his muscular frame. It’s clear his body type was attractive, but concerning his attitude, you’d never make any advancements. He was still distant, callus, and angry. You hadn’t seen an instance of kindness in the week you’d been together. But, then again… he had been so patient when you needed to relocate his shoulder, encouraging and sweet.

 

You shake your head and scrunch your nose. _That was when he needed you._ It was just an illusion to accomplish a goal, and nothing more than a superficial facade. Even if it had been so nice, it couldn’t have been real. You glance up at Kylo’s back as he walks ahead of you, his black pack settling heavy on his shoulders. A bitterness grows in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t imagine being like him. He must be so empty and cold inside, evident of the atrocities he’s committed.

 

Kylo tips back his water bottle, swallowing the last of the liquid inside. He slows his pace and bends down next to the stream, dipping the spout into the crisp current. You lean against a tree and watch him, pursing your lips and leering. His bottle fills and he screws the cap on, and an insult flies from your lips.

 

“Have you ever done something kind?” you interrogate, a bite to your tone.

 

He looks up at you, offended. He stares at you a moment, lips parted for rebuttal, then closes them. He looks you up and down, then stands and stalks off, adjusting the strap of his pack. You follow, undiscouraged.

 

“Have you?” you persist, catching up to his side.

 

He doesn’t look at you, but you see the tightening of his jaw. He makes no response but begins to move at a faster pace. You’re annoyed further.

 

“Can you answer me?” you spit. He freezes, and you almost run into him, he turns sharply to glare down at you.

 

“ _Never_ assume I must answer to you,” he snarls. He takes a threatening step closer, perhaps to frighten you, but you hold your ground, almost brushing chests.

 

“Are you ashamed to say ‘no’?” you growl.

 

“ _No_ ,” he almost yells, “it’s only clear that you’re in some psychotic mood, and I won’t entertain you. Don’t ask me questions.”

 

“Why are you so _awful_?!” you shrill, looking up in disgust. He barks out a humorless laugh into your face.

 

“That’s rich, _Your Highness_. Do you pass judgement on yourself, as well? Or do you only find faults in those around you?” he seethes.

 

You make an ugly face, but before you can make a rebuttal, he interjects.

 

“When was the last time _you_ were kind? Hm? Give me a specific example,” he demands.

 

Your mind goes blank and you must scurry around in your memories, panic dashing across your heart. “I married _you_!” you sneer.

 

He grits his jaw, glare deepening. Then, he pulls a tight smile. “Amazing,” he hums, “ _my wife has a sense of humor._ ” His hand reaches to roughly pinch your cheek, before his fingers smack your cheek twice, leaving a sting. The pain enrages you, and your clenched fist raises to beat him against the chest, but he ducks back before you can make contact, leaving you to flail with reddened cheeks.

 

“I don’t find surprising at all that you can pass criticism without receiving it,” he continues. “You are turning a blind eye on your actions simply because you think I deserve it more than you. Well, _guess what, sweet girl,_ in this whole galaxy, kindness is _earned_ not _given._ Which, _again_ , unsurprisingly, you’re not used to, because you’ve been _given_ everything you’ve ever wanted.”

 

“That is the _exact opposite_ of what kindness means!” you sputter, filled with fury.

 

He stalks over to you and bends over, resting his hands on his knees so that he’s eye level with you. “I’ll put it simply, because you are the least educated princess I’ve ever met-”

 

“ _Oh, so you meet many princesses?_ ” you interrupt, desperate to leave the harshest remark.

 

He looks unstressed, and he waits a moment before continuing. “You are a hypocrite.”

 

He stands straight and your mind-numbingly enraged, face red and brows drawn together. You keep sucking in a breath, hoping to expel something hurtful, but he turns and struts back down the riverbank. “Come on,” he calls back.

 

You wanted something, anything to say, some kind of stone to throw, you knew his ego was as fragile as a castle of cards, anyhow.

 

 _“At least I didn’t abandon my family to serve the dark side_!” you yowled, hearing your outburst echo through the trees.

 

He stops again, and you feel a flash of victory. Finally, you cut him, an eye for an eye. He’s still for a long while, and you can feel the anger bubbling, then boiling, spilling over, steaming up inside. He turns halfway over his shoulder, and the look on his face cuts you deeply, a chill running down your spine as his look can only be described as murderous. You shake, in anger, in fear, in anticipation for him to raise a hand and wring your neck with the Force, some conclusion, a dramatic resolution.

 

“You. know. nothing,” he says very quietly, a deep and dangerous waver in his voice. He turns away, and is gone down the river bank, and somehow, it’s even more infuriating. You wanted him to hurt you. You wanted to raise a hand and kick and scream and tear him apart. How dare he? How _dare_ he?! You _were_ kind, you’d _been_ kind, hadn’t you?! You could’ve been making him miserable, and while you didn’t make him happy, he didn’t deserve to be! He was awful and rude, he didn’t deserve your kindness!

 

You began pacing, watching him in the distance grow smaller and fade away behind greenery. Your hands found their way to your hips, gripping tightly at your flesh. You gnashed your teeth together, scoffing and growling as you thought it over.

 

 _Hypocritical_ , he said. You didn’t care if it were true, because you were right about him! He was unkind and rude, and…- _kriff, what else?!_ \- juvenile! So, what, if you were hypocritical? Did that matter? He was a scourge to the universe, so what if you were hypocritical? He was a black spot in people’s hearts and caused misery, _so what if you were hypocritical_? You were hypocritical. _You were hypocritical_. For Lunzar’s sake, _why were you hypocritical?!_

 

 You let out scream and kick at the stream in anger, then cry out when your toe makes contact with a rock hidden in the shallows. Your support leg buckles from beneath and you whimper at the agonizing pain. You shift from your hip to sit on your bottom, grabbing for your ankle, too afraid to touch the aching, throbbing toes underneath your slipper.

 

“Ow _w_ w, _o_ w _w_ , o _ww_ , _oww_ ,” you sob to yourself, bouncing your uninjured leg anxiously. You may have broken something. Gingerly, you grasp the heel of your shoe and slowly begin to slide it off. The movement agitates your pain, and you whine. Pulling off the slipper, you find your last two toes bashed and bloody at the knuckles. You hiss.

 

You slid the straps of your pack off your shoulders and lean back, before you attempt to flex. Your toes twitch and you’re met with stiff agony and you bite back a yelp, instead blowing out your cheeks and grunting. _Moons above, you were such an idiot_. You were a princess, weren’t you? You weren’t raised to be a childish brat who threw tantrums and broke their toes on river rocks. You were poised and patient, kind and intelligent. Shame speared you and tears pricked your eyes.

 

What was wrong with you? Sitting in the mud, drenched in sweat and foreign rain, crying because someone talked to you as if you didn’t have a title, as if you weren’t a wonderful thing of beauty. It was pitiful, and you bitterly wipe away the tears that dribble down your cheeks.

 

You move your injury to the water, hoping to clean away the blood and gently lower the wound into the stream. The abrasions sting, _burn_ , under the current and you yank your foot back with a hiss, then let out another yell. You lower your head to rest on your knee, gritting your teeth at the pain.

 

You felt like a joke. You were an immature joke. He brought out the worst in you, served it on a platter and bashed your face into it. And now, you’ve injured yourself past the point of walking. Some strange creature from the dark reaches of the jungle was going to come out and devour you.

 

A rustle to your far left made you jump and you whip your head around to see Kylo trudging towards you. He stops a few feet away, and glances down at your injured toes. “You kicked something,” he grumbles, and you look away in shame. You have no words, no excuses. Except maybe two.

 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and swallow down a tightness in your throat. Kylo is silent, standing there, watching the rain drip off your nose and mix with your tears on your cheeks. He takes a deep breath and sighs heavily.

 

“Understand that I have not come back because I care,” he articulates, “I have a duty to you, and I take my responsibilities seriously. From now on, I expect you to do the same.”

 

He steps forward and offers his hand. “Now, stand.”

 

You blink up at him. “I don’t think I can walk,” you whimper.

 

“You’re going to walk,” he says without a beat.

 

He looks serious, and though you doubt him, you reach up and slid your palm into his. Sliding your good foot underneath you, Kylo’s strong grip pulls you up. You fall into his side as you do but push yourself away. Kylo grips your arm until you’re steady, then goes to your other side, pulls your arm over his shoulder, and slides his other hand to press against your ribcage. The contact is unwelcome, and you shy from his touch, but he takes a step and you realize you need him. You pick up your pack and sling it onto a shoulder.

 

You put your heel down, and hop to the next foot, but end up flexing your bad toes and yelp. Kylo gives you a moment but leads you to take another step. You put your heel down, and gently hop to the next foot, jostling your injury painfully and hiss.

 

“We go as slow as you do,” Kylo huffs, sounding annoyed.

 

Your pattern continues, heel, hop, wince, heel, hop, wince. The pacing is grueling, but you know it would be worse without Kylo to help you. You keep a careful watch on your path, avoiding anything that could disturb your steps or poke your feet unpleasantly. Heel, hop, wince, heel, hop, wince. After a few yards, Kylo hisses out a sigh, then releases you and swings his pack around to wear it on his chest. He steps down to one knee and nods his head behind him.

 

“Get on my back,” he orders. You blink at him, hobbling on one foot.

 

He gives you a hard look. “Don’t make me say it again,” he growls.

 

You take a deep breath and get behind him. You slowly put your hands on his shoulders and straddle his hips, afraid to touch him much. He grabs your wrists and pulls your arms to cross around his collar, then slides his big hands to the back of your thighs and stands with a grunt, bouncing you into a comfortable position on his back. His strength impresses you, as you realize he’s carrying both of your packs and you.

 

It’s wet and sticky between the two of you, the rain lightening into a humid drizzle, and Kylo sets a slow but steady pace through the jungle. Sweat beads on the back of his neck, sticking his hair to his skin. You truly feel guilty. This is the second time he’s had to save you, and fight through his own pain to keep you safe. It reminds you that he’s being wholly unselfish in this moment, that he’s choosing to protect you. But, you were only a responsibility of his.

 

Somehow, that fact didn’t ring true, and didn’t stop the fluttering of your heart. Hopefully, he couldn’t feel it beating in your chest through the fabric of his tank. All he truly felt was the flesh of your thighs underneath your baggy trousers wrapped around his hips, and the softness of your arms against his collar. He felt your breath against the nape of his neck, the swell of your breast against his back through your satin night shirt.

 

Luckily, he could negate all that with how much he hated you in this moment. He felt like a fool for being attracted to you, to think you were an elegant and beautiful creature. It had been foolish to think you held any affection for him, or had any kindness or remorse or goodness in that rotten soul of yours. You were just a child to him now, and he was glad of it. Now, he could focus on his mission, the real reason you were here. Not so you too could ogle at each other and cuddle at night, and fall in love, an impossible thing, but to hate each other. Deeply, and purely hate each other, and strive for the misery or infuriation of the other. He so looked forward to it.

 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper over his shoulder, your voice sweet and sincere.

 

Goosebumps rise on Kylo’s skin, and he feels his anger melting, but he holds fast to it.

 

“I don’t care,” he drones, clenching his jaw.

 

You’re quiet as he walks, and he repeats your flaws over in his head.

 

“Then… thank you,” you say, “thank you for taking care of me.”

 

His stomach flips, heat rises to his face, and he holds back a shiver of delight. Where your skin meets his, the nerves come alive and it feels like molten lava searing his skin. He gulps hard, his heart thumping wildly.

 

“I-” you begin, but he cuts you off.

 

“Shut up,” he spits, trying to disguise the sharp breath he takes as a sigh. It feels worse when you do quiet down, and he wonders if he should’ve been gentler, the aching in his chest cursing him and his mission.

  
He pushes it away, he pushes it _all_ away. The weight of you on his back, the ache of his thighs, the twinge in his shoulder, his regret, his anger, his fear. He pushes it away, locks it down and throws away the key. He was tired of feeling it all, tired of the hope it gave him. Happiness didn’t find him easily, and in life, his hopes had always let him down. He wasn’t about to let you become another let down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really glad someone mentioned last chapter how they were excited to see how these two would interact, because I was just going to do action and plot, but I really enjoy this break in the plot for emotional development. So, kudos to you, because that's exactly what we needed. We got explore Kylo in the end there, that was nice to write, I have a lot of thoughts on his psyche. Reader got a little bit of a talking too, and is developing some different thoughts on Kylo, like finally, right? I know you guys want that kiss, but ummm it's gonna have to wait. Strap in for a medium-to medium slow burn. Also, i'm thinking of trying to do sub-plots during this story, but idk how it'll work in, or if it needs one? Sometimes they're nice to have so when there is an absence of action or interaction between characters, you can still write something interesting while allowing time to pass. lemme knooow
> 
> A. kiss please. pretty please?  
> B. development between kylo and reader is at a natural pace  
> C. sub-plot would make this work better  
> D. a sub-plot isn't necessary


	10. Escaping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw:blood not a lot, but if you're really bothered by something like that, feel free to skip this chapter

 

 

“Is that…?” you trail off, breath stolen by the sight of a tall concrete fort.

 

The stream you’d been traveling along side had widened into a river, which tumbled over rocks and flowed into a large and glistening lake. The edge of the lake flowed over a cliffside and the apparent roar of the waterfall signaled it was a fair drop. The fort sat far away, on the opposite bank, peeking up through the tops of the exotic trees and foliage. A tall radio tower extended up from inside the fort and a launch deck was suspended past the edge of the waterfall. Fighter jets screeched on and off the pad and disappeared into the walls of the fort.

 

Kylo drops his hold on your thighs and you hobble onto your good foot. He briefly points a finger at the base.

 

“That is trouble,” he says.

 

“They _might_ help us,” you suggest. Kylo shakes his head and directs your view towards the incoming jets.

 

“Those are _x-wings_. This is a rebel base. If we’re spotted, they’ll kill us,” he says.

 

You consider that for a moment. You bite your cheek thoughtfully, then turn your troubled expression up to Kylo. “Do you think The Order will find them? And, consequently, us?”

 

He shakes his head and meets your look. “I wouldn’t want to be inside when they do,” he says.

 

You search his face with frantic eyes. “Then… what do we do?” you ask.

 

He shakes his head and studies the fort, jaw rolling. “I don’t know,” he admits.

 

The two of you stand there, contemplating the issue. You needed a plan, but with limited resources and muscle, it seemed the two of you were going to be waiting a while longer.

 

Kylo turns and shucks his pack into the scraggly, mossy roots of a nearby tree. He settles himself with a grunt against the base of the trunk, laying his feet in front of him. You pick at a spot of grass ruining the hem of your night shirt, and he digs through his pack for his canteen.

 

“Thank you for carrying me all this way,” you hush, timidly scratching at the stain.

 

You look up to catch his reaction. His lips are settled against the spout, chin tilted up as his throat rolls with swallows. As he releases the lip of the vesicle, a drop escapes the side and dribbles across his jaw. He fiddles with the strap, looking at the river rolling over stones. His wrist wipes away the stray drop and he looks down at his canteen, smoothing his thumb over the shiny metal surface. You’re afraid he won’t answer you but he chucks aside the object with obvious attitude.

 

“It could have been avoided, but I do what is necessary,” he replies shortly, avoiding your eye.

 

You press your lips together, lowering your lashes. He still seems irritated, though it was understandably deserved. You step towards his spot and gently lower yourself beside him. You see his lip twitch as you bring your knees up, folding your arms around your shins. He avoids interaction, keeping his narrowed eyes on the river, plump bottom lip stuck out in a defiant pout. You try again.

 

“I’m sorry for making things difficult,” you start gently, waiting to see if that draws a reaction. When it fails, you continue. “I… I’m sorry for the things I said, and the way I acted. It wasn’t right to… I suppose I was only _trying_ to be angry with you and-”

 

“I _really_ could not listen to anymore of your apologies,” Kylo sighs, tilting his head back and pinching his eyes closed. “It is over with, it resides in the past. It is unnecessary to expend further energy on a dead issue.”

 

You turn onto your hip to look at him. “But it still affects us, so it must be discussed so it can be resolved,” you press.

 

He cracks open an eye to give you a skeptical look. You meet it with a pleading gaze.

 

“I only wanted to say-”

 

He cuts you off with a loud hum, holding up a hand and squeezing his eyes shut again. His hand falls against his thigh and you both dip into silence.

 

You glower. It was difficult to be civil when your adversary was a child, but you were well-mannered and wouldn’t succumb to his annoyances.

 

“I’ve had time to think and-”

 

“ _Shh_ ,” he hisses, holding up a finger in front of your face.

 

Your cheeks flush, a scoff forming in your throat. “ _Did you just_ -” you stop yourself from diving into a scolding and take a breath. You snatch his wrist and pull it down, out your face. Kylo startles at the sudden touch and you look at him sternly.

 

“I regret my earlier statement,” you yap impatiently. His eyes meet yours intently and you calm, now that you have gained his attention. You release his wrist and settle your hands in your lap. “I said you were unkind-,” you start.

 

“Among other things,” he interjects gruffly. You give him a look with the tilt of your head, but continue.

 

“I said you were unkind, but… now, I understand that isn’t true,” you fiddle with your fingertips, “you’re kind to _me_ .” You raise a humble gaze from under your lashes. Your husband looks surprised, the anger and color gone from his face. “I deeply understand that you do not _like_ me, and so I can only conclude that your kindness is unbiased,” you explain. “If you consistently save the life of, and extend generosity to your enemy, then perhaps, it is more easily given to others. Which means… I am at fault. I have only known you for a week, and I passed judgement too quickly.”

 

Kylo doesn’t react. He searches your face, seemingly surprised by your honest apology. He blinks, looks you up and down, lips parted, then his gaze drifts slowly back to the water. His knee lifts to support his forearm, and he tips his head back against the trunk he rests against. Disappointment spreads through your chest, as he looks too contemplative for a reply. You take a gulp to settle yourself, and reluctantly shift back to your bum, drawing your knees against your chest.

 

Perhaps, it had been a mistake to even try. You take pride in the fact that, at least, _you_ made your peace. He might not be ready, or maybe he had to gather his thoughts. But, you had tried. You had been diplomatic.

 

The river rushes over stones, splashing against the banks and singing over stones as it makes its path downstream. Occasional droplets kiss your skin as they fall from the canopy, and the rain seeps out of your clothes and hair for a ragged appearance.

 

“A shoulder for a foot,” Kylo whispers. You spin your gaze back to him, surprised he answered. He casts a sideways glance and catches your eye. His reply is not lost on you and you’re merely grateful he replied at all. A smile tugs at the corners of your lips and you look away shyly, pressing your mouth into your knees. Kylo’s heart flips and he turns away as well, his fingers clenching into his palms.

 

A comfortable silence stretches between the two of you. You are relieved to have managed that resolution, but something still irks your mind. You decide it best not to disturb the peace you two have come to, instead pulling yourself to stand.

 

“I think I’m going to wash up downstream,” you announce, and begin to pick your way across the terrain as carefully as you could. You were still bothered by your injury, but resting eased some of the pain to a mild throbbing.

 

“Stay alert,” Kylo gruffs.

 

You gingerly step over foliage, uneven stones and roots, wincing through every step, and finally come to the shore of the lake. Looking over your shoulder, you don’t see Kylo and assume your spot is far enough off. You crouch next to the edge of the lake and dip your cupped palms into the water, then splash water onto your dirty face. The chill is refreshing and you splash at your sweatiest regions, washing away the jungle grime. You roll up the cuffs of your pants and lower your ankles into the tide, letting the water lap at your calves. It’s soothing and you tilt your head back, eyes closed.

 

Lazily, you daydream about the next week. Once this was all over, you decided you would have to visit your home planet. Whether or not you had approval, it didn’t matter. All your belongings were gone with the crash. Your clothes would need to be replaced, your skincare products, your soaps and bubble baths, your books.

 

_The ring from the resistance is gone too._

 

You consider that carefully. This was a resistance base, after all. Lifting your head, you examine the towering structure across the glistening lake. Maybe they could help you. Would they know who you were? Would it matter to try? The First Order would probably wipe them off this planet soon, so it wouldn’t be wise to take shelter with them. In addition, you can’t guarantee they’d know who you were, without your ring.

 

Another “x-wing” flies off the landing strip in the distance. _You wonder how hard it would be to pilot one of those._ No doubt, Kylo could, but you two couldn’t just waltz in and take one. There wasn’t an entrance against the lake, so perhaps flying was the only way in. It wasn’t a concrete plan, but it could work. You only needed the right resources, and the right opportunity.

 

You hear a shuffling in the brush behind you and you tip your head back to greet Kylo. But stepping out of the tall ferns is an unfamiliar man in black pants and brown military jacket, pointing a blaster at you. You startle and rush to stand, only to stumble with a hiss on account of your injury.

 

“Hold it!” he growls, lifting the weapon to aim at you. You freeze, hands lifting defensively. A shiver runs across your skin as you lean on your good foot, eyes darting between the stranger and woods where you came from. You wanted to scream for Kylo, but your instincts told you it was wiser to keep quiet, and to avoid a shot to the chest.

 

Another person, a woman wearing a tan shirt with a short brown vest, steps out from the trees, blaster in hand. She takes charge and steps forward, gun raised with an intimidating chill in her eyes.

 

“Who are you?” she barks, thumb sliding over a section of the handle.

 

Your mouth goes dry and you’re at a loss for words. You fear this woman wouldn’t like any answer you give her. She narrows her eyes and takes a step forward. “Start talking, or I’ll start blasting,” she growls. You tremble and look around for an escape route. You obviously wouldn’t make it to the trees before she fired, and you wouldn’t take a chance on her accuracy.

 

“Hey, Munez, wait just a minute,” the man hushes.

 

“Shut it, and call it in. I’ve had enough of you today,” she snarls over her shoulder. She turns back to you. “I’ll only ask you once more, who are you? How did you get here?”

 

You gulp and find your words. “I’m the princess of Lunzar,” you say very quietly.

 

“And?” she grumbles.

 

“You’re a long way from your castle, then, hun’,” the man comments, unclipping a radio from his belt. He raises the device to his face and it emits a scratchy noise. Before he can make a report, Kylo’s blade lights up and drags through the gunman’s torso with a screech. The woman snaps around, her shot deflecting off the spin of Kylo’s blade and he ducks to the side. He deflects the second shot and surges forward, his blade diving into the womans chest.You yelp and your hands fly to your mouth. Kylo pulls his blade out from her and she falls limp, landing at your feet with a splash.

 

Your throat tastes acidic and your stomach squirms at the blood that runs into the water around your ankles.

 

“Are you hurt?” Kylo pants, and begins to walk over.

 

“I’m going to be sick,” you whine as he steps over the body in front of you. He puts a hand on your shoulder and notices your face.

 

“ _Oh_ ,” he muses, “ _you’re green_.”

 

You lurch with a gagging noise before Kylo attempts to hold you steady. His saber sheathes itself and he guides you back to the forest.

 

“Aaaalright, come on,” he urges, and you gag again.

 

“Oh, _stars_ , that was _awful_ ,” you gurgle between your fingers. Kylo chuckles. “You’ll be fine. Understand it was either her or you.”

 

“How can you live with yourself?” you go on, clutching at your stomach.

 

“By keeping my life. We should go, there might be more in the area,” he says, and begins to pull you along.

 

His touch stings your skin and you wretch your wrist from his hand, suddenly fearful. “Honestly, though,” you whine.

 

He looks surprised as you back away from him.

 

“You just… you just _killed_ them,” you gasp. You feel light headed. “Two people, with complex emotions and relationships. They had hopes, and ambitions. They mattered in this world, and you took that all away. Everything they were is now gone, the people they love will never see them again… _And then you laughed about it_ .” Your stomach churned, you really _were_ going to be sick.

 

Kylo was silent and straight faced, watching you fall apart as you leaned against a tree. He shrugs. “That’s war,” he says.

 

You shake your head. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

 

He rolls his jaw.

 

You take deep breaths, settling your nerves and the prickling at the back of your throat. Your gut twitches again, but you have confidence the nausea is waning. To experience death so suddenly, so violently, it shook you to the core. You don’t doubt they would have killed you, had they known you were a survivor associated with The First Order. Their deaths do not feel justified, though. You weren’t in this war, and they weren’t your enemy.

 

“We have to get off this planet,” you decide quietly. Kylo is staring at you.

 

“And how do we do that?” he asks.

 

You glance down at the shore, where the two bodies bleed into the lake shore, with sullied uniforms…and loaded blasters...

 

Your stomach flips and you steady its acrobatics with a deep breath.

 

“I have an idea…”

  


 

* * *

 

  
  
  


“Master Skywalker… please, we need you,” pleads Rey.

 

The old jedi gives her a stern look. His cup, halfway to his lips, lowers back to the table, clicking forcefully against the stone slab. He does not answer her plea, instead steadying his hands on his knees. “Did you do as I asked?”

 

Rey holds back an aggravated sigh and an eye roll, and reaches into her worn pack for the bottle of warm green milk. She produces it hastily and Skywalker grunts at the offering. He takes it gingerly and unscrews the top to refill his cup. Once finished, he returns the cap to the lip of the bottle and sets it on the table.

 

“ _If_ I were to return, what would you have me do?” he grunts. “Defeat an the entire First Order with a mighty swing of my lightsaber? You’ve got dreams, kid. I couldn’t be much help.”

 

“You could _try_ ,” Rey grits through her teeth. Luke pays her no mind. He takes a long drink from his cup and wipes away the foam from his lips with the back of his robe sleeve.

 

“Rey, the universe does not need me to save it,” he says.

 

She stoops down next to him, eyes gleaming like hot embers. “Master Skywalker, you _are_ our only hope.”

 

He shakes his head. “No,” he denies, “I am not. Hope does not lie with one person. It is the light within each of us, the drive to create a better tomorrow.”

 

“And you can help create a better tomorrow!”

 

“Enough, Rey,” he sighs, holding up his palm, “no more of this today. I don’t want to hear it.”

 

Her face sours and she stands abruptly. She stalks out the door, looking for a place to clear her thoughts. Skywalker would not help her, she had no training to fight Kylo Ren, and he was too strong and The First Order was too great. But she willed herself to keep hope, to believe the balance would shift. She didn’t know how, or what, _when_ , but when she looked for it, she felt it. Hope. Hope that something was about to happen. Something, _soon_ , was about to shift.

 

She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes as the winds of the hidden planet whipped her loose tendrils around her face. _Hope_.

  


 

* * *

 

 

You were right, this is insane. Like shit they’re going to let us in there, dressed in a corpses’ uniform,” Kylo sneered through grit teeth.

 

“Do you have a better plan?” you scoff, pulling at your damp vest.

 

“ _Yes_ , staying out of sight and staying _alive_ ,” he hisses, peeking over the thick brush.

 

“This will work, we just have to be careful,” you assure.

 

“Unlikely,” he scoffs, then tugs at the collar of his too-tight jacket. “Nobody is going to believe that we’re resistance fighters- this jacket is too damn tight.”

 

“Just unbutton it a bit,” you suggest. He gives you an incredulous look and just tugs at his collar harder. You scoff and look around the brush at the entrance to the fort. It’s a tall, square door, with a rectangular window cut out up top. At the top of the wall, two guardsmen talk casually behind barbed wire.

 

“Are you ready?” you whisper to him. He sighs in response and grits his jaw.

 

“What do we have to lose,” he grumbles, and begins to stand. You hold out your hand and he pulls you up. Before you can think, he sweeps your legs into his arms and hoists you up to his chest. You tense at the motion and squirm.

 

“What are you doing?!” you whisper.

 

“You said to carry you,” he drones.

 

“ _No_ , I said support me, like I’m seriously injured,” you hiss, a blush creeping up your neck.

 

He looks like he wants to argue but sighs dramatically. “Whatever, we’re going to die anyways.”

 

He steps out of the brush and trees and onto the dirt road leading to the fort. You attempt to push down the heat in your face and focus on your story. Someone sees you from the overhead window and produces a shout. The guards at the top snap into position, and dark figures rummage around in the window. A horn blares out rhythmically, and the square door begins to rise outwards, supported by extending steel bars.

 

Two other Resistance fighters rush out and greet you with concern.

 

“What happened?” the taller one asks.

 

You put on your best pained expression. “We were attacked beside the lake,” you explain shortly.

 

The shorter one looks pale. “By who?!” he asks.

 

You shake your head and make your eyes go wide. “Not who… _what_ ,” you stress. They both look concerned.

 

“She hurt her ankle,” Kylo interjects and you almost wince. It was your toes that were injured, but it worked.

 

“What attacked?” the taller one asks, reaching for his radio on his belt.

 

“Something big and scaly, with lots of teeth. It was awful looking,” you whine, then make a show of your ankle paining you.

 

“I’ll bring her to the infirmary,” Kylo states. You hope he doesn’t sound too rushed. But the officers nod.

 

“Of course, take her immediately. I’ll radio Ms. Graff and let her know you two are on your way. What are your names?”

 

You don’t miss a beat. “Emilia and Jacob,” you lie.  

 

The taller officer nods and clicks his radio to life, turning to the side to speak into it. The shorter man speaks to Kylo.

 

“When she’s taken care of, I want you to report to me in the communications wing. Understood?” he says.

 

“Yeah,” Kylo mutters and pushes past him. You tense at the startled look the officer gives the two of you. But the two of you pass into the base without a reprimand and you sigh in relief as you enter.

 

“You should’ve said ‘yes, sir’ or something,” you whisper harshly.

 

“I was starting to count on the fact that this base is extremely unorganized. They didn’t ask for a surname, let alone an id or rank,” Kylo hums, and jostles you into a better position in his arms. “We may yet get out of here alive.”

 

He stops and looks around the base. “Where do you think the infirmary is?” he asks.

 

You look up. The base is a long stretch of land, a strip of dirt and gravel sandwiched between thick, concrete walls. There are three levels to these walls, and each floor is open to the courtyard, without a railing. There are many steel doors lining the top two floors, probably barracks for the fighters. The bottom wall is bare except for a large open doorway on either wall, where people come and go easily. War machines and storage units sit against these bottom walls, and further along, X-Wings are lined up, the landing strip just in front of their noses. To your left looks to be a training area, where a few dozen fighters follow exercise instructions in a sand pit. To your right is a small, white tarped tent, where a handful of  greasy engineers weld and hammer at weapons or machine parts.

 

Your eyes hover on the stationary X-Wings. “We could just take one of those. Right now,” you suggest. You look over Kylo’s shoulder and see the two officers from before, ducking under the closing door. The taller one smiles over his shoulder at you but the shorter one looks skeptical.

 

“I doubt they’d stop us. This base has no discipline,” Kylo grunts.

 

The officers begin to climb a set of rusty, iron stairs up to a half-walled concrete platform, where a couple of other officers stand, overlooking the courtyard. You’re disheartened from your idea.

 

“Actually, we should probably just go to the infirmary,” you gulp, turning back to the rest of the base. Kylo nods.

 

“Right or left?” he asks, gesturing to the doorways on the ground-level walls.

 

“Um… right,” you decide. Hopefully, that was the correct way. It’d be conspicuous if you two were seen heading any other way.

 

Kylo carries you through the doorway and into a horizontal hallway, to the left end, is a door labeled “infirmary”. You sigh in relief. Kylo approaches and kicks the door open and startles both you and the doctor inside.

 

She lets out a curse and you tense up at his startling maneuver.

 

“All my jinxes! What makes you think you can barge in here like that, scavenger?” the woman scolds, holding a hand over her heart, bracing herself against the edge of an examination table.

 

“She’s in pain,” Kylo states. The doctor looks to you and you wave shyly.

 

She gestures to the exam table. “Put her there, then,” she orders, then turns and starts looking through the wooden shelves against the back wall.

 

Kylo does as ordered and sits you on top of the table. The doctor gathers a few supplies and inquires about your wound. She unlaces your borrowed boot and, with a bit of squealing from you, removes it to examine your injury.

 

“Oof, how gnarly,” she tsks, holding your ankle steady as she studies the dark bruising and damaged skin. She looks over her shoulder at Kylo. “I can take care of her, scavenger. Heeves insists you report to him immediately,” she states sternly.

 

Kylo pulls in a deep breath through his nose. He stands a bit straighter and crosses his arms. “I’d like to stay with her a bit longer,” he returns.

 

The doctor pulls her head back in disbelief, an eyebrow raising. Your eyes dart back and forth between them, and you decide to interject before Kylo is reprimanded and obliterates your cover. “Please, don’t make him leave,” you plead, hoping to convince her with a sappy look. For a moment, she considers it, narrowing her eyes at you and Kylo. Then, she releases a caustic sigh, rolling her silver eyes and continuing her work.

 

“All right, you two. I won’t look out for you, but I’ll bend the rules for a moment more,” she concedes. You thank her and she grunts in response, tipping a bottle onto a large cotton piece. She swathes the wet cotton against the site of injury and you jerk at the sting, hands gripping at the table edges and sucking in a hissing breath. She looks up at you skeptically.

 

“Don’t be a child, it’s only peroxide,” she scolds, and continues to scrub at the area. You attempt to swallow your pain, in an effort to conserve your pride. Kylo shuffles around the office, examining the vials and bottles packed into the shelving units.

 

“How did this happen?” the doctor asks absently.

 

“She was bitten by a monster from the lake,” Kylo answers, curiously examining a jar full of wood shavings.

 

“A monster?” she repeats skeptically.

 

You could kill him.

 

“N-no, that’s not true,” you interrupt quickly, “we were escaping and I bashed my toes against a boulder.”

 

“That’s more believable,” she replies boredly, and reaches for new supplies.

 

You’re too afraid to make a reply, and instead, send Kylo a scolding grimace over the doctors head. He squints at you, unconcerned. The doctor assembles a splint with her rudimentary supplies.

 

“What’s easier to believe, is that you two youngsters decided to play hooky on your scavenging duties,” she accuses, looking up at you with a raised brow and a stern eye. Kylo glances at her, mysterious vial in hand. Your jaw shuts tight, embarrassment rising in your gut.

 

“Don’t look so surprised,” she mutters, positioning her makeshift device, “I was young once, I understand how harmless a skinny dip in the lake sounds.”

 

Kylo curses under his breath, covering his face with his hand. You want to hide away, where no one can see the deep blush rising up your neck, turning your skin a cherry pink. _To even suggest… with someone like him… how mortifying…_

 

“I-it isn’t like that! I-OUCH! That hur-OW-” Your interrupted by an eruption of pain, as she tugs and pushes on your bones, keeping a vice-grip on your ankle to keep you from flinching away.

 

“Hold still, I’m trying to reposition anything broken,” she hisses, tugging at your toes.

 

“Please, stop! Its- _AH!_ -excruciating!” you cry, tears pricking in your eyes. You struggle, emitting yelps and wails, before Kylo’s large comes down and latches onto the doctors wrist.

 

He pulls her grip from you, towering behind her, and the splint falls from her hand. She yelps in surprise and blinks up at him, before she slinks back into an authoritative rage. “Get your mitts off me, scavenger!” she snarls.

 

“She said you were hurting her,” he growls, “so stop it.”

 

She tries to pull her wrist from his grip but fails. His fingers tighten and she cries and releases your ankle to claw at his grip. Your stomach drops, sickening at the pain in her face. You couldn’t bear another repeat, another victim.

 

“ _Kylo_ !” you shout, shoulders trembling. His bitter expression turns to you, and softens. “ _Please_ ,” you beg, “not again, I couldn’t stand it, please let her go.”

 

He keeps your gaze, a confusing intensity behind his dark eyes. You stare back, waiting, hoping. His grip does not loosen and he is halted, caught in time. The nurse looks at you, then back at Kylo, then to you with wider eyes, and again to Kylo with a dawning look of fear.

 

“K-kylo? Kylo _r-ren_?” she stammers, blinking away. Kylo studies her, then looks up at you, his jaw crooked as he glares.

 

She barely emits a shriek before he spins her around, his forearm winding around her throat and pressing her back into his chest. “Fantastic, you blew our cover,” he accuses, the woman gaping in his arms.

 

“I did not blow our cover! You were the one who _forgot_ our cover! _And don’t hurt her!”_ you plea angrily, watching her claw helplessly at his arm.

 

“No. Now, we have to kill her,” he glares.

 

“ _No!_ We can- we can tie her up!”

 

“Oh, with what, princess?” he scoffs, positioning other hand against her opposite ear, “ _plastic bandages and gauze_?”

 

“Enough bickering with me, we need to figure this out!” you whisper harshly, though you don’t know why you’re whispering.

 

“There is nothing to decide, _she must die_ ,” he resolutes.

 

Several noises rumble through the walls of the fort and all three of you hush. The shelves rattle their cups and jars before shivering into silence again. You and Kylo meet eyes.

 

“They’ve arrived,” he concludes, then releases the doctor and slams her head against the wall as a horn blares out through the halls. Your jaw drops and a siren begins to wail, but you have no time to contemplate her importance in the universe as Kylo takes your wrist and pulls you out of the room. You trample behind, finding it difficult to keep up with his pace as he drags you through the hall. You can already hear shouting echoing through the corridor as you head towards the courtyard, and outside the screech of war machines and blasters.

 

Kylo puts an arm around your ribcage and pulls you along faster, tired of your slow hopping. The wall behind you two bursts violently and you both duck, you with a yelp, and Kylo practically carries the two of you to the courtyard. You step onto the gravely lot and an x-wing soars overhead, closely followed by a trio of tie fighters and the cries of their blasts. A distant explosion is paired with the indistinct, panicked shouts of the fighters, everyone running all around or powering up machines. Fighters rush into the field from behind you, running for the strip of x-wings down your far right. Kylo pulls you left, towards the entrance.

 

“Wait, we need to get out of here!” you clammer, looking over your shoulder at the lines of x-wings.

 

Kylo stops and looks back, as a group of tie fighters fire on the runway with stunning accuracy, and the explosion sends scrap metal and fighter pilots flying. “Not on those,” he snarks, and yanks you on. You near the gate and Kylo lets you go to rush up the iron stairs. He produces his saber from inside his jacket and it blares to life as he disappears up the steps. A series of grunts, blaster noises, and lightsaber sounds later, and an officer falls over the side of the railing and thumps against the ground. The gate begins to blare its horn and slowly opens. Kylo drops down from the railing and grabs your hand, lightsaber sizzling in his grasp as he runs with you towards the gate. He pushes you down to duck under the opening and you lose your footing, scrambling on your knees.

 

A blast hits the gate over his shoulder, and he swings his lightsaber behind him to deflect the incoming barrage of blasts. His saber twirls away the attacks easily. You stumble under the gate and he follows quickly. Once through, he replaces his arm around your body and drags you towards the woods, but out emerges a group of panting scavengers who halt on seeing you.

 

One glance at the infamous red lightsaber and they fire immediately. Kylo dives in front of you and swings at the blasts, deflecting a few back at their respective scavenger and incapacitating them quickly. He raises a hand, and the Force flings two more deep into the woods. The last man standing fires a vicious succession of blasts, and Kylo’s blade sings through the air, deflecting with an even greater speed, before a blast from a fighter above strikes the scavenger and sends him flying through the air. He lands limp on the ground with a sickening thud.

 

The sleek, black transporter from above descends, engines whirring, a grey First Order insignia decorating the side wing. Kylo slings an arm over your shoulder and you both rush towards the opening door. As soon as your feet are inside, the craft raises from the ground and almost tosses you to the ground with the violence of the take off. You steady yourself and Kylo against the wall of the transporter, grabbing for the strap of a harness. He leans on your shoulders heavily and your body struggles to support him. You go to make a comment but when you look up at his face, he looks very pale and his forehead is glistening from sweat. He looks sick. Your mouth falls open and you feel slick against your waist. Looking down, a wound against his diaphragm pours deep red, soaking through his open jacket and against your skin pressed against his.

 

Dread grips you, but not as hard as he does as his eyes roll back and his knees buckle, his arm about you shoulder pulling you down with him. You both crash to the floor, limbs tangling. The noise alerts the pilot and he does a double take, then reaches for his headset. You push yourself up, head pounding from its collision against the floor. Kylo is unresponsive, and the pilot frantically relays information through his mic. You stare at his unconscious face, paralyzed.

 

“-I repeat, immediate medical attention required. Have medics on standby. You there! Girl!” he shouts at you, snapping your attention to him.

 

“There’s a med kit on the back wall, try and stop the bleeding or something,” he orders.

 

 _The bleeding._ Kylo’s blood soaks through his clothes and drips onto the floor. It coats the palm that lays against his stomach, and you lift your hand, turning your wrist to find a slick coat of blood against your skin. Your fingers tremble at the sight. It was _a lot_ of blood. Your shaky hands push aside the jacket, grasp the hem of the stained tank top, and peel the ruined fabric from the gnarled skin underneath. You gag at the gorish injury, and force your other wrist into your teeth.

 

Though your head swims, and your eyes water, you push yourself to stand. Unsure of what motivates you, you find the bright yellow medic box on the back wall and bring it over to Kylo’s limp body. You kneel beside him and clutch the box tightly between your fingers. You stare at the wound. Your gaze is glued to the burnt and mangled site, fixed by fear. How would you even start? Could you even start? What could you do?

 

‘Try,’ you hear within yourself, ‘just try.’

 

After a moment of petrification, you begin to work, feeling like a ghost in your own skin as you begin to tend to the wound. You don’t know what you’re doing, but in your haze, you look to Kylo’s face. He is still, silent. You don’t even know if he’s alive.

 

“Kylo?” you whisper, calling to him softly. Unsurprisingly, he is unresponsive, unmoving. You don’t feel anything from him. You feel nothing but emptiness, shock.

 

Slowly, you raise your hand to place your bloodied palm against his cheek. _Please, where are you?_ You reach for him, any part of him, willing him to wake, to be alright. You reach for his life, his spark, the part deep inside that keeps his heart beating, you yearn for it. You reach with your own spirit and beckon him, using a blind hope, a light within, to reach for him, to feel his being. Something is there, you know it, you hope for it, you connect with it.

 

Your name hushes across his lips.

 

It catches you off guard and you pause, before energy fills your bones and you move with focus and determination. Now, you work with purpose, sprung into action by a force that moved within you. Could it be _The Force_? No, no time for that now. You press against the wound, trying to contain his vital blood within his body and look back to his face.

 

“You,” you huff, “you will ruin me.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew. well, it is written. More development is happening and oh my, poor Kylo. I do love chapters where they get to snark each other, and then stick together during action sequences like they don't hate each other. We know better ; ) I apologize for how late this was, I try to put out chapters less than a month from each other. Hopefully, the next one will go faster. We can finally get into the actual plot that I've been working on, not just these frustrating build chapters. I also hope Kylo is okay next chapter... hmm, I think I'll be spontaneous on how that goes. Lastly, thank you to those who have stuck with this fic for so long, I understand it must be tiring waiting for these updates, but I simply cannot write 2000 word chapters. Thank you for all your patience! 
> 
> interactive (forgot this part):  
> A) i would like to see what you have planned for the plot  
> B) maybe I would rather a filler chapter that develops their relationship


	11. Hope

The steady beat of the heart monitor does nothing to calm your nerves, neither the eerie silence that had taken over the infirmary ward. Your thumbnail was pinched between your teeth as the nurse replaced the clipboard in the slot attached to the bed. He turns to leave the curtained room, passing you a smile as he exits. Your sight never leaves Kylo’s bruised and bandaged body, covered in bacta-patches and stitches. An hour ago, doctors were busying to reattach nerves and tissue within the burnt cavity, pumping lost fluids back into his body. Now, he lies still, sewn up with a large patch stuck against the staples. You received appropriate attention, a lightweight brace supporting your bones so the fractures could heal. A warm shower had cleaned your cuts and scrapes and now you were dressed in standard black clothing, your hair dampened. 

 

You weren’t  _ worried…  _ more... _ concerned _ than anything else. Hopefully, nothing like this would ever happen again, so you wouldn’t have to worry about looking out for each other. You had a lot to think about, though. You had to think of how you felt about Kylo. On one hand, he had casually killed at least three people, while also showing great care for you. And while it warmed you to think that he had a heart, you weren’t sure you could appreciate it. Tenderness shown to the individual is not kindness, it was bias. Was it then impossible to expect kindness from him, the Commander of the First Order, who has killed many before, a man raised on war? Should you accept him as he was? 

 

Your nail snaps between your teeth and you take your thumb from your lips, frowning at the hangnail. You pull off the broken bit and hear steps behind you, to which you turn and see General Hux standing beneath the doorway. He gives you a smile and nods at Kylo’s bed.

 

“Worried, are you?” he asks, hands folded behind his back. He’s dressed tidily in his uniform, not a scarlet hair out of place. 

 

“As much as is good for me,” you admit, looking over your shoulder to Kylo’s bed, “I’m sure he’ll be alright, the medical staff here is incredible. I just have… other things on my mind.”

 

He hums in a disinterested tone. “Either way, I’m going to have to pull you away from his bedside. The Supreme Leader wishes to see you. Now,” he informs.

 

You snap around, eyes widening. “The Supreme Leader? He’s here?” you ask.

 

“Yes, of course,” Hux grins, amused, “welcome aboard The Conqueror.”

 

You pale and he turns to head off, expecting you to follow. After casting a last glance at Kylo, you follow, and try to keep up with the general’s long strides. 

 

“You’re quite important, your Highness. His Supremness is most delighted to finally have you aboard and he’s been  _ patiently _ awaiting your meeting,” the general continues, his gait much longer and faster than yours. You wonder if all officers walk with this much purpose or if Hux was an exception. 

 

“Oh?” you reply bleakly, unsure of how to answer as you focus on your stride. 

 

“He has an important matter to discuss with you,” Hux clarifies, rounding the corner to which you both end up facing a row of elevators against a glossy black wall. His gloved hand reaches out and presses a button against the wall, prompting a faint “ding”.

 

He glances at you over his cheeks, an ever present upturn on the corner of his mouth. “Congratulations, by the way. I never did say that, we met so briefly last time,” he adds on. 

 

The doors to the elevator slid open silently and he steps forward and you scramble to follow suit. “But, perhaps,” he continues as you both take your spots and he presses another button on a large panel on the side wall, “perhaps we can change that. I’d be grateful to make a deeper aquaintenship with you, considering we will be much closer, as Ren and I work within similar circles.”

 

“Mm. Perhaps,” you agree absently, unsure of the need for familiarity, but not enough to disagree. 

 

He turns his head to give you a warm smile, but you notice his eyes still hold a coldness. “Splendid,” he hums, his voice dropping into a lower tone, “It will be a pleasure.”

 

He holds your gaze and you feel forced to offer a polite smile, but slowly face forward, eyes stressing at the awkwardness. The slow elevator holds the silence and you wonder if you’re any closer to your destination. 

 

“Is everything going well between the two of you?” he continues, and you hold back a sigh, “I understand he has an obnoxious temper. You haven’t been victim to it, have you?”

 

“Of course I have,” you scoff before you can determine if it was wise. Hux clucks his tongue. 

 

“Oh, dear, I expected as much. He is such a barbarian, doing and saying as he likes, throwing fits when he’s upset. It’s exhausting, I can only imagine what you go through. You must be a very patient woman to deal with a man like that,” he chuffs.

 

“He has tested the limits of my patience beyond my imagination, yes,” you agree, rolling your eyes. Hux chuckles and lifts a hand to place tenderly behind your shoulder. 

 

“I understand the frustration completely,” he hums, then turns serious, “but, if he ever lays a hand on you, come straight to me. I will take care of everything. You deserve respect and I will not stand for any dishonor he may bring to you.”

 

The comment warms your chest but you are reminded of your spat with Kylo on Ghyuinen. The faint memory of pity in his face flashes through your head, but you shake it loose as the crash of the wooden dresser rings in your ears. “I’m not terribly worried. I know not to push him too far,” you tell truthfully. Hux chuffs again, then folds his hands behind his back and faces forward. 

 

“You’re faith in him is astounding, ludicrous even... He is lucky to have someone with your heart. But, please, keep my offer in mind,” the general hums.

 

You smile. “Of course, General.”

 

The floor beneath you slows to a gentle halt, and your stomach drops as you realize you are about to meet the leader of The First Order. How do you greet him? Does he speak first, or do you? Are you  _ allowed  _ to speak? 

 

The elevator doors slide open and reveal you to the intimidating room, dark crimson walls bordered by curved black pillars that rise tall from the glossy black floor, and in the middle, just beyond the wide catwalk, the Supreme Leader of The First Order. On a sloped dias, golden textiles draped over the large throne and formed to the thin body of a grizzled man, skin pale and cratered, a smile cracking across his leathered features. He sits upright, hands resting easily on the arms of the throne.  Perhaps his smile was meant to be welcoming, but he looks as if he’s brought you to devour you, bones and all. 

 

A net of fear chills across your skin, paralyzing your bones,  _ the air here is wrong. _ Hux’s hand pushes against the small of your back and your body moves, your sight frozen to Snoke. Hux walks you across the railed catwalk and you wonder how terrified you look, your body tense with eyes wider than planetary rings. 

 

“ **_Welcome_ ** , _ Your Highness _ ,” purrs Snoke’s voice, though the effect is not soothing. Goosebumps rise on your skin, you are caught for words, diving past the initial fear and into a pit of dread as each moment passes and you are at a loss. 

 

“Thank you, General Hux, for bringing her to me,” he continues, his attention turning to the man beside you. You hold a sigh of relief. 

 

“Of course, Supreme Leader. Will you be needing me further?” Hux responds.

 

Snoke lifts a hand with a sweeping motion. “No. Dismissed.”

 

With a bow, the man turns on his heel and leaves you to feel very vulnerable, alone, looked down upon by the destroyer of worlds. Snoke meets your eyes and it sends a chill across your skin again. Your blood beats in your ears.

 

“I regret that you were unable to meet with me sooner. I am informed that your transition into The First Order has been…  _ exciting _ ,” he addresses you, quirking a wrinkled brow against the chasm in his forehead.

 

You can’t find the will to speak so you offer a meager nod. 

 

“ **_Speak_ ** , girl,” he orders.

 

“Yes,” you answer immediately, ashamed when your voice cracks. Collecting yourself, you will diplomacy to cover your cowardly behavior. “The last week or so has… been…  _ more different _ than anything I’ve ever experienced.”

 

Snoke hums. “No doubt. I’m sure  _ your type _ isn’t accustomed to the happenings of war. Much more comfortable becoming intoxicated on foreign beaches, spending frivolously, and playing - _ jockeyball _ \- was it?” 

 

You bristle but hold your tongue -how did he even know about jockeyball?-

 

“Anyhow, I’m sure you’ll find life aboard  _ The Conqueror _ as unstimulating as you’re used to. Fear not.” He smiles as if he’s told a joke. He turns his attention to a black velvet bag that lays on top of the armrest, his bony fingers loosening the braided ties. 

 

“Occasionally, however, I will require your complete attention and obedience,” he continues.

 

His thin fingers reach into the bag and he pulls out a gem which is perfectly spherical and crystal clear, save for the patches of pastel rainbows that dance over cracks and imperfections within the gem. Your lips fall open as you recognize the gemstone.

 

“What is this,” he asks of you, balancing the gem on the tips of his fingers.

 

“A crystal pearl,” you reply meekly.

 

“Yes, a most remarkable jewel. From what I’ve gathered, it grows like a cluster of grapes deep inside your underwater caves.” He sets it aside, gnarled fingers dipping into the bag again.

 

“-Now, do you know what this is-”

 

He pulls a second gem from the velvet bag, one that is like milky glass and tinted with a faint, turquoise glow. You don’t recognize it, but it does strike you as pretty. It shines dimly, refracting a cool light against Snoke’s skin, and you want to reach out, touch it, cradle it in your palm.

 

“No,” you admit, entranced.

 

“This is a kyber crystal, the power source of all lightsabers, sacred to the Jedi,” he explains to you, twirling the chunky gem between his fingers. “It grows in an organized, prismatic vein, from inorganic and organic matter. Resistant to fire, tools, explosions, which makes mining very difficult, but not impossible. Mostly, we find dead dwarf stars and tear apart their cores, rip the crystal from the obsidian, but it is quite rare to actually find.”

 

His eyes shift from the gem to you, clenching it protectively into his fist. “Until we found you.”

 

You stay silent, jaw tightening. 

 

“More precisely, your rich export,” he hums, leaning back into his throne, “after receiving a shipment of false crystal, we identified the export as your planets unique ‘crystal pearls’. We almost destroyed your world for betraying us, but one of our brilliant lab technicians revealed that, within these stones, there were trace amounts of kyberite.” 

 

Snoke falls silent and you feel an expectation to speak. “I… was unaware,” you try, eyes lowering meekly “we harvested and processed the pearls strictly for jewelry and novelties. We’ve never went deeper into our exports makeup,” you say. You fear he assumed otherwise, that you kept this valuable secret from him, which would most definitely result unfavorably. 

 

“In any case, we needed to explore this opportunity,” Snoke gruffs, “we’ve found deposits inside your presently colliding moons. Chunks of the collision have drifted off, and we’ve already sent mining crews in to harvest the crystal found inside. When the current collision cools down, we will harvest the remaining crystal.”

 

Your brow twitches. That didn’t sound good. You weren’t about to pledge yourself to The Resistance right here and now, but allowing The First Order to gain a supposed tremendous amount of power? It sent a shiver of fear up your spine. But what could you do? Just a princess from a remote system, whose talents indeed lay in beachside manner and the rules of  _ jockeyball _ .

 

“And afterwards, we will search the remaining moons for kyber-”

 

Your blood ran cold. Perhaps you misheard. Your other moons? What proof was there that kyber lay inside the others? You interrupted Snoke’s mining plans.

 

“Documents will be sent to your room to recognize the mining operation as legitimate-”

 

“Our other moons?” you panic, body frozen. He pauses in his telling of operations, looking annoyed. “What makes you think there’s more!?” you exasperate lifting a bravely defiant gaze.

 

“We assume there is, considering the surrounding masses are rich with kyberite,” he answers, a scowl beginning to take his features. 

 

“Ghoztin and F’derra are already colliding and we’re expecting their destruction to have monumental effects on the balance of our environment. If we lose more- our… our tides, the weather, the rain, the angle of our planet's axis- its all disrupted, I- we won’t survive. It would be the apocalypse,” you murmur, eyes wide. If only he understood, if he considered the consequences. 

 

He nods. “I had considered that…”

 

Hope blooms in your chest. “And?!” you plead.

 

He is quiet, closes his eyes and shakes his head, a chuckle rumbling from his mangled ribs. “Child, you must understand,” he snickers, “The First Order is incapable of the expense and coordination for an evacuation.”

 

Your heart drops into your feet and you pass a look of ludicrousy.

 

“Your planet is home to billions, the time and energy required to relocate to a base or uninhabited planet would be more costly than the effort of our mining expeditions. It is ridiculous to waste our resources.”

 

“You’re condemning us to die,” you growl lowly, “you’re committing mass genocide for the sake of some dumb  _ rock _ .”

 

“ _ I grow tired of your arguing, child _ ,” he warns, looking stern, “you will legitimize the mining operations at the earliest opportunity. Then, you may deal with your situation. These are  _ your  _ people,  _ your  _ responsibility. Their misfortune is  _ your  _ fault.”

 

“I have done  _ nothing  _ wrong!” you spit, hands clenching into fists. 

 

“ _ You pledged yourselves to The First Order _ . Your loyalty lies with  _ us _ . There is nothing more to say. Dismissed.”

 

“ _ You can’t do this _ ,” you snarl, taking a step forward. The Red Knights startle you as they spring to life, drawing their weapons that crackle and snarl with electricity. You swallow, looking back up at Snoke. He sits comfortably, without concern, hand still clenched around the kyber crystal.

 

“Turn around, and leave this room without another word,” he demands, sending a spark of obedience through your spirit. 

 

Before you understand why, you’ve stepped inside the elevator, and as the trance fades, fury bubbles up into your throat. You whip around to face Snoke with an outraged expression before the doors close in front of you. 

 

You pause, eyes wide, heart galloping. What just happened? You’re a mix of confusion and rage, an energy rippling through your muscles as you begin to tremble, frantically searching for the answer. How could he? How could he?! You had a duty to your people, and now you’ve failed them. Through trying to save them, you solidified their deaths, their suffering. But, no, no, no no no, that couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t. There had to be another way, this couldn’t be happening. What could you do? There had to be another way. 

 

You felt a wetness slip down your cheek, but you were beginning to numb beneath the skin. Your breath came out shallow, short, eyes wide and searching, focusing on nothing. The elevator swirled under your foot and you braced a hand against the wall, pressing into a panel of buttons. The machine began to descend, and your stomach flipped. You stumbled out onto the first floor you landed on, walking numbly into the well-lit, glossy black hallway, the heels of your boots clicking rhythmically with your unsteady footfalls. 

 

You had to get away, but you didn’t have the strength to run. You knew you needed someplace alone, away from the noise, from the black walls that were caving in, the glossy, sterile floors, so different from your home.

 

_ Your home _ . Warm, bright, magical. A place filled with love and affection. White striped wallpaper, the warmth of the morning sun, the magenta glow of the moons in the sky, golden candle sticks on lace tableclothes, sweet pastries filled with berries, soft chiffon gowns in pastel pink,  _ mother _ ,  _ father _ ,  _ light. _ All of it, gone, destroyed. The grassy knoll where your mother brought you for picnics, the marble pools where you and your friends had splashed and indulged in gossip, Livo braiding your hair before bed as you read a romance novel. 

 

Falling against the wall, your legs shaking too hard to hold you up. A choked sob escaped your throat as you slid to the floor. What hope was there? The First Order had taken everything from you,  _ Snoke  _ had taken everything from you…

 

_ Kylo  _ had taken everything from you.

 

This marriage that he had agreed to, knowing how much it would cost you, vowing to be by your side only for he and his master to twist it against you, to throw you down and take countless lives for the sake of power. Your tears turned bitter, and you sobbed in anger, crying for your people, crying that for a moment you had cared about that monster. What hope was there?

 

What hope was there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it's been a long time since i've uploaded, i know. I just felt like I had a duty to at least upload what I had. I'm getting a bit bored with this work, I have another idea for a connor (dbh) fic and i am just chomping at the bit. I thought I would finish this, but I think this fic could go on for another 20-30 chapters and idk if I have the strength lol. Perhaps shorter chapters... anyway! this one is a bit angsty but it's led up to the actual plot instead of just filler. dont worry about kylo, he's gonna be fine

**Author's Note:**

> Who else loves a good ole mutual hate-to-love fic, amiright? I just can't stop myself from writing them. Feisty readers are always so fun to write. These two are also immensely more fun when I get to invent insults for them. I'll be mixing in some sugar with all this spice, don't worry my readers. These two are just beginning to smolder.


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